


Vengeance

by Callace



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 189,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callace/pseuds/Callace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season seven, shortly after Lies My Parents Told Me. After each their failed attempt, Wood and the First team up to take Spike down. Meanwhile, Angel comes to town, to help stop the coming apocalypse. BtVS/AtS crossover. ABS. Though clearly Spuffy-centric, we've tried to do justice to the BA - relationship too, as well as the complicated frienmity between Spike and Angel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm warning

**Author's Note:**

> Co – written with the lovely Papillion Worship ( http://papillonworship.tumblr.com/ )
> 
> Beta’d by wickedrum and Rabbit-moon
> 
> Inspired by the story Because He Needs Me, by DreamsofSpike.
> 
> WARNING: Very dark fic.

Unforgiving rain pounded down heavily against the neighborhood’s cold hardened streets. The sun had gone away before the night was scheduled to make its rounds, leaving innocent people to the ominous acts which beasts took part in after dark. Inside most homes children were tucked safely away, unaware of what surrounded them; although, their own imaginations were still too accurate for comfort. Outside cold winds whipped along as rustling leaves fell off trees, dancing in celebration to the hovering storm. A storm without conscience, merely brewed to destroy. No worry or care, it was a storm which came to town to pummel those already beaten down. Except for one house; one of many, with the warmth kept securely inside. Whilst standing on the lawn the house remained undefeated. It did not find a need for protection, it was the protector. The howling winds made its case while threatening lightning struck nearby. Buffy Summers did not flinch, but stood gazing out the window with slight annoyance where fear should have been. This woman had knowledge that no one else could see; knowledge that the rest of this little town could not grasp. Buffy knew this storm was a sign.

“It’s going to be hard to train the girls in this,” A tall dark man strolled over to the newly replaced window, from which the woman’s eyes did not move.

Buffy’s hand aimlessly played with the small pendant that was currently dangling from her neck; “You read my mind,” she replied, her voice seemingly distant.

“I’m sure it’s no big. Could do it in the basement.” Xander Harris observed in his best attempt to be helpful.

She didn’t respond right away; her eyes looking out as though there was something other than harsh liquid to be seen, her voice set to respond automatically, “There’s not enough room…”

Xander waved a hand in her face, “Buf…”

Turning in irritation Buffy snapped, “What?” She waved her hand almost as a means to wave him away, “We’ll do it in shifts.” 

Strolling off towards the kitchen, Buffy tried ignoring Xander’s attempts of keeping up, since she could tell he didn’t want to let her off easily. Ever since Principal Woods and Giles had teamed up together as a means to take Spike down, Xander had observed Buffy’s sudden withdrawn behavior. Sensing he was still behind her, she quickly whipped around causing him to stumble backwards to avoid collision. 

“What is it?” She asked in a calmer manner than before; however, her tense folded arms gave away frustration. 

“I was just wondering if you needed to talk or…” His voice trailed off trying to find the right words that he wasn’t certain existed, “just vent. Would you like a good vent?” Enthusiasm rising in his voice, he stared her encouragingly in the face. 

Responding quickly; trying to hold onto that calm she managed to wrangle up, Buffy spoke simply “I’m fine.” She started to head back towards the kitchen when the sound of Xander’s voice made her face him once more.

“Oh see when you say it like that it’s fairly obvious that I’ve been reading you wrong. That and the distant staring.” He quietly clapped his hands together having made his point. Being friends with her for as long as he had, Xander understood Buffy liked to avoid the talking and get right on to the doing, but with the problem she was having he knew better. There wasn’t a whole lot to be done. The Evil they needed to fight they couldn’t touch; literally. The vampires she needed to battle; as terrifying as it was to conceive, could kill her more easily than she them. There were the Bringers he had to remind himself. She fought them as well as any ordinary creature, but they weren’t coming a knocking when needed most. The issue that were bothering her the most right now wasn’t in need of a violent remedy; though she took her more internal pain out in such ways. As far as Xander was concerned this needed to be handled with talking rather than flying fists. 

“You have my attention.” Her short quick responses weren’t letting up. She knew very well what Xander was trying to make her get into. If only there were time to get into it. War had broken out around her. She didn’t have time to spill her deepest feelings just as she didn’t have time for vendettas. Plus, now it was storming outside. It set their preparation behind, but more importantly it got under her skin. 

Xander didn’t know how upfront he needed to be, but he felt cut off from her. She was cutting everyone off and now was not the time for that. It never was the time for that, “Giles betrayed you.”

“Yes…”

“You trusted Giles and he betrayed you.”

“Yes…”

He sighed as she wasn’t giving him anything to work with here, “Know that I’m your friend Buffy. Know that you can talk to me about this. I want you to feel like you can talk to me and lately, well you’re not really talking much to anyone; besides with the usual slayer stuff.”

Buffy’s arms dropped to her side in exasperation. She looked up at the ceiling trying to collect the millions of thoughts that had once again run wild in her mind. She tilted her head back down as her green eyes met his own. She swallowed before speaking, as Xander expected daggers for words. “Slayer stuff. All there is time for is slayer stuff. I appreciate what you’re doing. I do, but I don’t have time. There isn’t enough…” She looked down at the ground and stated softly, “There isn’t enough of anything.” Looking into his face again Buffy spoke with more confidence, “What happened is bad, yes, but I’ve got a job to do. Unfortunately, that has to come first. I’m sorry if I’ve been distant. I really am. Maybe I’m still getting over the shock. I don’t know, but thank you for your concern.” She now offered him a smile trying to sound peppy. “If I need talking you’ll be the first to know.”

Xander watched as she made her way back into the kitchen, deciding to leave her be. It had only been a few days since the incident had occurred, it was only natural for her to need time. Unfortunately he knew that she was right, that there wasn’t any to spare; it couldn’t be spent on Buffy dealing with the sting of being stabbed in the back. They pressed on. It’s what he knew she would do, but at least Buffy now had the reminder of support from a friend.

***********************************************************************

Emptiness surrounded the cold kitchen, which came as a surprise. Downstairs was a fairly crowded area and there was no means of escaping to solitude. Now a quiet humming could be heard from the side of the room as the refrigerator sang a luring song. Ignoring its hopeful temptations, Buffy took a seat at the counter and put her head in her hands. It was clear that her mind had taken off for a less than pleasant vacation the last couple of days.  
That being brought to light; she realized she needed to get her priorities in order. She couldn’t think about someone she had trusted with every fiber of her being plotting against the unlife of another that strangely enough had come to mean a great deal to her. The explanation she had given Wood was simply that of Spike’s fighting ability; which wasn’t a far cry from the truth, he was one of the strongest fighters she had in this war. To lose Spike in this meant to possibly lose altogether and she wouldn’t have that. Even so it went much deeper than the reasoning of Spike fighting in the war. It wasn’t appropriate given the history between Spike and Wood for Buffy to make mention of it right then and there, but Giles had known what her heart felt. She didn’t expect him to get it, but at least Giles, who had gone along with Wood, had known. It was an observation he had made through discomfort, once she had chosen to have Spike’s chip removed. Arguing it out, Buffy had stood her ground; Spike was not going anywhere. 

However, the first opportunity presenting Spike’s demise, Giles jumped at the chance; distracting Buffy while Wood did the dirty work. Thinking of it now, both parts of the plan were dirty. Buffy found more fault in what Giles had done than over Wood’s behavior though, because with Wood she could understand him coming from an emotional place. With the old trauma occurring in his life that gave him an understandable grudge.  
But her watcher was fully aware of the situation at hand. There was the problem; knowing the dire circumstances caused panic. His fear that her feelings for Spike were clouding her judgment; that she couldn’t see the liability that he was. Buffy couldn’t help but feel that had they talked this out like the mature adults they were supposed to be, Giles wouldn’t have needed to make drastic assumptions. Instead of an intense argument back and forth, she should have been granted the opportunity to make him see the dynamic of her and Spike’s relationship. It was a complicated one at best, but at least then he could have seen the level head that she was keeping. No such chance had been given, or even considered. Giles had violated her heart for the greater good. Giles had violated her trust.

Loneliness sunk into the walls of the almost silent room. It was a reminder that there was nowhere to turn. It was only solitude that could give some comfort. An understanding that there was yourself and only yourself. But then again for her that wasn’t true. Buffy lifted her head, adjusting herself so she was now positioned towards the basement door. She took comfort in him. More importantly, she trusted him. The last person in all the world she ever thought she’d be able to trust, she now could.

Slowly, standing up Buffy made her way over to the basement door. She knew that Spike would dust before ever causing her harm. Their road hadn’t been an easy one, but over the past year that was a confusing truth that she came to trust in. Even if she couldn’t trust herself to be more than she was to him now; a friend, their mutual support was something that never wavered. He accepted this and some days it made her heart cry. 

Touching the cool metal of the doorknob Buffy quickly moved her hand away as if it were scorching.

“Havin’ second thoughts?” A deep British voice came from behind her.

Buffy turned; slightly embarrassed seeing Spike had snuck up. He was already healed from the amount of damage Wood had inflicted before the trigger was deactivated. She wished the same could be said for Wood once Spike had gotten through with him. Buffy suspected it’d be some time before he’d be able to make his way beyond the threshold of their loving high school again. It was an awkward reunion that would gladly go avoided for now, but quickly needed to be dealt with once it came around, “I…I forgot the potentials were down there,” She remembered quickly hoping for a smooth cover.

If Spike suspected something more he didn’t let it on, “I’m not down there for that reason. Can’t deal with the constant prattlin’ of teenage girls.”

Buffy nodded understandingly, only half listening to what he was saying, as her eyes found interest over his shoulder; staring out at the rain that was knocking against the back door intrusively. Remembering in the back of her mind that it was now her turn to speak, she found her voice again, but the distance remained, “I’m sure they’ll be going to bed soon. You’ll get your room back…”

“Uh huh” Spike bit his bottom lip, sensing the strange change that had suddenly come over her. He noticed her eyes and turned towards the back door himself, expecting to see someone standing in its doorway, but spotted only the raging storm. Looking back over at her, noticing that her fascination hadn’t lifted, he addressed it. “You alright?”

Falling back into old patterns, a response didn’t come right away, but once it did it came cryptically without any changing bodily movement, “Something’s going on.”

“What’s that now?” Spike continued looking at her pensively, wondering if she was well. He noticed how tense her body had become and the seriousness that she wore on her face. Whatever this was it wasn’t about their known knowledge of The First or the occurrences of the last few days, this was new. 

“I don’t know,” Buffy tore herself away from the rain, took a step back, returned to her spot at the counter and sat down. 

Spike didn’t make a move at first. Standing still and keeping his eyes on her, he waited to see if she was willing to spit out an explanation of any kind. When it didn’t come he became more concerned and made his way around the counter, now standing in front of Buffy, able to see her face. “Have a dream?”

Gazing up with a look of puzzlement, “What?” she finally caught on to what he was referring too. Buffy shook her head, “No. I have a troubling feeling. I’m not sure what it’s about, but I am the Slayer after all. It certainly feels like something I should be paying attention to. Not that there’s a whole lot I can do about it anyway, which is the more disturbing part about all of this.”

Her face was troubled and Spike could tell from the dark circles under her eyes that she was in desperate need of rest. The weight of the world was literally riding on her shoulders and it was too much for one person to have to carry, but that’s what Buffy was expected to do. Make all the right calls, know exactly how to save the planet, so this sorry excuse of a human race could go on living. She did so without complaint. She got her hands dirty and did the work expected of her. Buffy was truly beautiful to him.  
When he next spoke that beauty she filled him with shone through in his voice, “When the time comes you can handle it, but won’t be handlin’ it alone.” From his sincere expression, it was clear that he was never going to back down. Spike was never going to leave her side. 

It was moments like these that it was all Buffy could do not to reach out and beg for him to hold her. Just to have his touch on her could make Buffy believe that this wasn’t only his confidence in her, but an actual truth which he had foreseen. However, Buffy knew full well that at least one part of this was for certain: Spike would stand by her no matter what. She would not have to fight alone. Not to be ungrateful to the house full of people doing their best to pull their weight, but recent actions had proven that she needed to be aware; expect the unexpected or there might be no one left to fight this war when the time came. 

**********************************************************************

In a somber tone light had evaporated from the scene, as darkness swirled throughout the air lingering over this closed off space. An unwelcoming vibe was given off to any person or thing that dared to drop by without a formal invite. Shadows inside were getting ready to make their move as their plots and plans were finally thought out and marked down. It was always the shadows that needed to be watched out for; they hid so well in the light. Most of the time it was forgotten that they could drop by during the day and always overstayed their welcome as the moon shone down again. They were everywhere at once, but children only feared them when it was time for their own eyes to close during the peaceful night. It was a harsh truth, but it was exactly why shadows got away with their most insidious games. They never grew tired of playing; they stayed engaged from sunrise to sunset. 

Deep in his dwelling embedded in the pitch black ambiance a man sat with a cold look upon his face. He was waiting for it to make its move; waiting for It to come off the wall to stare him in the face. It was known that It would be coming soon; there wasn’t a doubt about its presence being made known. He had called It; driven by the stinging remembrance of his recent failure against a monster beneath him. A vile creature in need of getting put down. But that instead continually conquered heroes. Covering all his bases and all the walls with crosses, Wood should have been able to take down the filthy fiend, instead of experiencing the bitter taste of defeat! 

Now he sat on that couch with inhuman patience; it was only a matter of time until It decided to show. Prepared for its encounter was nothing at his side and not a plan to be had in his mind. Trembling would have been the smarter front to put on, anyone in his position would have rightfully been a little shaky, but as he saw the shadow drift gracefully off the walls with fiery eyes of red a slow smile made its way on the principal’s face. Deciding to speak first, he opened his mouth and out popped a dangerously confident voice, “How would you like me to proceed?” 

 

***********************************************************************

Heavy pitter pattering could be heard thumping outside the cold basement. Towards the side of the room a bed sat complete with chains above it. The chains had only been used days before, but were never to be put to work again having already served their purpose. Smoking in silence Spike sat with a thoughtful look on his face; still a bit before his bedtime, the rest of the house had taken their slumber hours before. It was nice experiencing quiet for a change; middle of the night or middle of the day this residence always seemed to be hopping. For once Spike could hear himself think. Truth was it hadn’t been the loud chattering of girls that kept him away from his more private thoughts; in fairness it had been the reason why they were chattering that kept him on alert and away from much needed down time. Down time didn’t really exist when the apocalypse was waning in. He had to wager it was why he hadn’t been granted a TV in his “bedroom”. His own thoughts would have to keep him entertained for now, it wasn’t like any of the other bedrooms appeared to have TVs in them. Now the lot was sound asleep since there hadn’t been any action on the First’s front as of late and other than training there wasn’t much their side could be doing right now. Buffy certainly wasn’t going to keep the girls training all day and night. If they could get some shut eye; the way Spike saw it that was a good thing. Be rested for when the war finally played out. 

He couldn’t help but notice that when things were slow Buffy never seemed to take her rightful break. She worked all day, came home, worked all afternoon, and then she worried all night long. It took all his self-control not make his way up there and sit with her as she drilled out all her fears. If he could help it, he’d take her mind off of them. Buffy had every right to let it keep her up at night, but was obsessing really going to aid her in the long run? It wasn’t like anything they had ever faced before and Spike knew very well that this could be it for human kind; however, even a hero deserved a little time off; if not for five minutes at least. 

It was no surprise to him when he saw Buffy was still awake. She made her way downstairs and stood before him with her arms crossed wearing the same white shirt and jeans she had been in all day. Her shiny golden hair up in a pony tail as her mesmerizing green eyes stared into him. She was a goddess. 

Control yourself you stupid git! No need to be thinkin’ that way. Yes, she’s beautiful. Already know it. Can’t be headin’ down that road. 

“Somethin’ the matter Love?” Spike inquired. Buffy was awake per usual, but she had made her way down to see him? Up all night trying to stay one step ahead; more realistically, catch up and finally pass evil on the playing field, but never did she come down and see him in the middle of the night. It had to be three in the morning by now, “shouldn’t you be gettin’ some rest?”

“Like I have time for rest,” a soft pout crossed Buffy’s face that Spike had to fight himself not to bite. 

“Goin’ to fall right on your face you will. Keep goin’ at this rate…” His voice trailed off in realization that there must have been a motive for her coming down here, “Buffy, somethin’ you need?”

“You Spike” Her voice was sultry and Spike could have sworn that he saw a twinkle in her eyes.

His own eyes almost popped out of his head, but then quickly he put a look of calm over his face not wanting to illustrate a hint of shock, “Is that right?” Spike didn’t make a move to get up, but continued to sit on his bed as he tossed the cigarette he’d been smoking earlier to the ground, putting it out with his boot. 

“Yeah.” Buffy kept her voice light and moved closer towards the stairs that she had come down with a coy smile on her face. She looked at the floor almost shyly, avoiding contact with him before slowly looking up, looking him right in the face, “I was wondering if you could come for a walk with me. I left a file of one of my students, that I promised myself I’d look over before seeing them tomorrow. She’s troubled and I just want to do my best for her.” She paused looking to see his expression, and was greeted by a look of pure eagerness, “I’d rather not have something jumping out at me in the rain; or a couple of things jumping out at me in the rain anyway. I just think we can’t be too safe considering what we’re up against.” As her words poured from her mouth, she gave him a smile, and a smoldering look, that made it only too clear that her reasons for coming down here were nothing more than an excuse for what she really had in store. 

Having caught on to this fact, Spike had to fight back a smirk. There was no way she could come to him in such a seductive manner. That’s what she was doing right now, wasn’t it? Attempting to make a move on him? She could never feel for him that way now. Spike knew very well that he had crossed a boundary with Buffy last summer. What he had done was beyond crossing boundaries and it was why he had sought out his soul. It was an unforgivable act that she had been compassionate enough to see past; however, never forgetting that it had occurred. It was an event that would be engraved in his memory until the day he was dust; as it should be. Recollecting that very night made his stomach ache and if he could get sick he most likely would. Spike had been the one to commit such a wretched act; as atrocious as it felt to him, it could only be worse for her. There was no way Buffy could ever want him again and there was no reason why she should. If Buffy appeared to be hitting on him it could only mean one thing: The First and its’ mind games were back.

Fully aware they were now playing a game; he figured it was one he could compete in. Pretending to be taken with the idea of being more to Buffy than he ever could be wasn’t a challenge. He had to hand it to The First, it was good. However, it wasn’t good enough. A year ago he would have fallen all over this; been thrilled that she would come to him. What a difference a year does make, because now his only intention with The First was to keep this fight away from Buffy. If this was one of the few nights that she had actually decided to gain rest, Spike wasn’t about to let that be interrupted by whatever army of beasties this evil had waiting outside. Besides, he had a score to settle. They had tied him up and tried to break him; a weak attempt to bring him over to their side, and now he was going to hurt them back, and make it count. 

“I hear ya Buffy. I hear ya.” all Spike had to do to make his act convincing, was not to put on a performance at all. In his mind he’d imagine that his history with Buffy didn’t exist, because only then would he ever be able to take her up on such an offer. For his past treachery to be erased, because Spike knew full well that if she came on to him nowadays, he could never give himself over to her; he wasn’t worthy. That’s where the land of make believe would have to do. 

Lifting himself off the bed Spike made his way over to “Buffy” with a look of adoration on his face, “Good thing you remembered now. Headin’ to bed in two or three hours. Wager that’s when you get ready for work.”

She twirled her lengthy blonde hair innocently with an unwavering smile, “I know that it’s last minute. I don’t need that much prep work. I just want to have looked over it and made my notes before chatting it out with her again.”

“After you then,” It gave him a peppy little Buffy expression before turning towards the stairs. 

Spike sucked in breath he did not need and then made his way up the stairs. Once through the door and into the kitchen Spike walked straight down the hallway. He quickly turned into the other room away from the outside and saw “Buffy” eyeing him. Spike reached into the trunk where he knew the real Buffy kept her weapons. He held a sword up as he made his way back over to the front door and stopped to look at It before proceeding outside, “Somethin’ jumps out at us, should have a means of fightin’ back.” With that Spike turned seeing the door shut and locked tight in front of him as The First stood patiently behind him.

Very clever. Couldn’t open that yourself.

As he reached for the knob he caught a familiar scent in the air. 

Principal Wood, odd time to be droppin’ by for a visit. Social call? Not bloody likely. 

Taking a step outside Spike caught a glimpse of Wood’s eyes fired with hatred. He didn’t make a move for him; he’d be easy enough to deal with later. Right now, Spike needed to find his first real threat; maybe a Turok-Han or perhaps a couple of Bringers? When nothing showed up for the battle, Spike allowed the sword to hang from his hand loosely by his side in disappointment. There was only Wood for him to face off with and that wasn’t going to be much of a fight. 

Suddenly he felt it; a sharp pain in his neck. Lifting up his hand to reach for the stinging sensation, he slowly sunk down to his knees, overcome by such intense drowsiness that he couldn’t resist it. What sounded like Buffy’s voice was distantly heard, “Get him in the car.” Then there was nothing. 

 

***********************************************************************

After tossing his tranquilizer gun in the trunk of the car, Wood put all his strength into manhandling the heavily sleeping vampire into the backseat. Staring down at Spike with disgust, he was filled with a burst of pride and joy over finally getting this chance at revenge for his mother’s death. It was a promise that had been made years ago causing the majority of his life to be about tracking down vampires; any vampire, and giving them a rightful dusting; hoping against hope that eventually he’d get the one who had taken his mother’s life. There was nothing in this world that he hated more than vampires. And now he had the one he had been looking for all along. It pleased him beyond words; the fact that this thing had a soul didn’t change his mind. It was a killer and this was personal. All he could hope was that Spike being soulful now would cause the pain to sting just a little bit more. By the time Wood was through with him, he’d have Spike’s soul in flames burning him from the inside. The image brought a grin to Wood’s face along with an eagerness to get started, causing him to reach for the holy water he had in his pocket. A little splash now would take the edge off. 

“Not yet Baby. It’s not time. We need him restrained first. You can play later.”

Jerking his head, it never failed to spook him seeing that his mother had come to him again. Of course, it wasn’t really his mother. Not anymore than it had been Buffy only moments ago. Despite the truth that fact carried, he couldn’t help but finding himself listening to It as though it was her; choosing to believe that she was really here with him. He kept his mouth closed as she continued to advise him as any loving mother would.

“Be careful not to dust him. Not right away. Let him suffer the way that I did.” She crossed over to her son, standing besides him, staring in the window of the car at the sleeping vampire. It was hard to get a good glimpse of him as hard globs of rain continued to beat against the glass. “Because of creatures like this one, my life was hard and it was short, and I never got to be the loving mother I could have been to you Baby.” She reached out her hand to touch him, but pulled away quickly, knowing full well it’d go through her son. “Even in death I can’t give you the comfort you deserve. There’s no ease of this pain. Not for you,” A grin crossed her face, “And now not for him.”

Letting her words wash over him, Wood glared at the shape of his enemy through the window. He wanted to shatter the glass and make slow shallow cuts all over Spike’s face until they ran deeper and deeper; leaving it so no amount of vampire healing could ever work. Wood wanted Spike to be disfigured for eternity and then maybe he’d begin to understand the burning sting that Wood himself woke up with every day. “Never for him” he agreed. His words were chilling. 

“That’s my boy!” His mother spoke with a proud smile on her face.

Suddenly It wasn’t his mother anymore, but had turned back to Its last form, of the current slayer. “You better get going before he wakes up. As much as I have confidence in you, we both know how it ended the last time you fought him unleashed. I’d rather we didn’t have a repeat of that.”

Nodding with obedience, but displaying his own determination, Wood got into his car and took off for their anticipated destination, leaving behind the newly befriended First Evil, which had not taken the form of Buffy now, but had appeared to be the captive vampire himself.


	2. Lockdown

The sky was so bright it was blinding. He didn’t remember the sun being this painful as a human. Did he fall asleep outside? It was; after all, where he remembered being last. That’s what this had to be; he must have been sleeping outside, and that’s why the sun seemed so unnaturally bright. Spike was really only use to seeing it after taking shelter. It must dim the effects. Suddenly, reason and logic surfaced. He couldn’t be outside right now beneath the blueness of the sky; he’d be a big pile of dust if that were the case. Clearly, disoriented from whatever was going on, that obvious fact had slipped his mind. Turning his face away from what felt like bright flames embedded in the ceiling, Spike took notice of his surroundings, as the blurriness of his vision became less intense. 

Giving a medical feeling to the room; the walls were white, or at least they would've been, if it weren’t for all the long dried blood and goo that was splattered on them. Furniture was tipped over, as many broken objects were carelessly left on the floor. It appeared a massacre had taken place. A sick feeling came over Spike when he suddenly pieced together why it looked this way. Demons had been freed to kill their captors and both parties took pleasure in offing the other side. This had taken place years ago, but Spike had taken a trip to this facility with Buffy only weeks before. They hadn’t made their way into this particular room, but he was uncomfortably familiar with the Initiative Labs.

Making an attempt at standing up, terror rose in him with realization that he was securely bound onto a cool metal table. Must be the kind the G.I. Gits had used back in the day, when they put a chip in his head. Back then though, Spike had at least been allowed clothing; this time was shamefully different. He started to struggle against the restraints that held his arms and legs down, in vain. He kept trying to convince himself that his super strength was enough to break that which held him in place; refusing to think about that they had been constructed for his exact kind. Still, though getting more and more sure of this, Spike never let up in his attempts at escape. He was not about to let himself become an experiment again. 

Then a voice came from behind him, in a chillingly calm tone that Spike had come to recognize. The night before came rushing back, as he remembered seeing the cold unforgiving eyes of the principal. Now here they both were, Spike’s ignorance having led him into this trap. Wood stepped in front of him looking more pleasant than he was willing to be. The man went so far as to greet his victim with a smile, “Hello Spike, I know the treatment you’re receiving is less than cordial and I really try to be fair with people. But you’re not people, are ya Spike?” Now leaning over the table Wood got in Spike’s face letting his warm breath hit him while continuing to speak. “I believe you and I were in the middle of a conversation before you took your leave. You got to say your piece, but I really didn’t get to say mine.”

“Believe you were sayin’ your piece while burnin’ my face with a cross, Mate.” Spike commented evenly. 

Spike felt the intensity of Wood’s glare as it carried on for a good many seconds, before he shoved himself backward away from the table where his captive lay helpless. Before Spike had time to get too comfortable, a wooden cross was slammed down on his smooth chest, as rage replaced the pleasant exterior that had been on the Principal’s face. Holding the chosen torture device without amnesty, Wood’s voice boomed throughout the room as his body shook with anger. He looked as though he might tear the vampire’s head off with his bare hands, “You chose to kill your mother Spike! You did that! Just like you killed my mother!” His hand didn’t let up from the cross that was now making a piercing sizzling sound against Spike’s skin. Spike bit back a yelp with knowledge that this wasn’t the worst pain he had ever felt and was most likely not the worst that was in store. Wood carried on, his voice only getting louder the longer he burned his victim, “All that pain and ache that ate away at you, after what it was you did; you caused that same pain and ache to plague countless people. You think we’re alike? You think we both loved our mothers so much we’d do anything for them? What you did wasn’t for your Mom, it was for yourself! That’s not love Spike! Turning someone into a monster isn’t love; it’s insidious! It’s demonic! The fact that you could rationalize your actions while carrying a soul, it’s all the proof that I need to see that a monster is a monster; nothing will ever change that!”

Lifting the cross off Spike’s chest now, Wood examined the burned flesh. It appeared as though the cross had eaten away at most layers of Spike’s skin. A small smirk greeted his face while laying the object down. Knowing that his actions couldn’t bring back his mother; Wood couldn’t deny that this was second best. This was a moment that he had been dreaming of; a story he’d make up in his mind every night helping him fall asleep. Wood was going to savor every minute of it; he was going to make sure it lasted long after the vampire begged him for a dusting. After all, Spike’s countless victims didn’t get death right away; not all of them, why should Spike be given any special privileges? By the time Wood was through with him, death would be the special privilege. 

While Wood had been shouting a few harsh truths at him, Spike had tried not to listen. Having just made peace with what happened with his mother, that was a wound he had hoped to keep mended. It was bleeding now, as culpability stung his emotions. He didn’t want to cry over his now long deceased mother now. There would be another time for that. Right now, Spike had to make sure that Wood didn’t suspect his getting to him. The last thing he wanted to do was give the wanker any sort of satisfaction in this, “Tell it to your therapist. Probably beyond their help.”

Before he knew it Wood was looming over him once again with a death grip around his chin, forcing Spike to look directly into his eyes, “If the roles were reversed and I were in your position, I’d make damn sure I kept my mouth shut. Tight!” Letting go of his face, Wood patted Spike lightly on the cheek. Stepping away from the table he went about his exploration of the room in hopes of finding other goodies to play with. 

Taking in a deep unneeded breath, Spike tried to calm himself down. He wasn’t certain if it was fear of Wood that made him most nervous or if it was the memories of being back in the Initiative. Most likely both were taking their toll. One side of this he could remain rational about. Wood was a human being. A human being was hardly a match for a vampire, so if he could hoist himself off this table he’d be out of harms way, where Wood could find himself at his mercy. Only this time Spike wasn’t willing to show any. The last time they had gone head to head; once he was fully in the game, he had made Wood say “Uncle”. Feeling bad over why the man was reeling from rage, benevolence had been granted. Spike would not make that mistake again. 

All he needed to do was get up. Simple as it sounded; it was not something that could be done. Glancing around the room besides him, there was nothing within reach that he could take hold of. Deep down he knew that if there were, his arms were pinned so tightly he’d never be able to reach anything anyway. Still, he had to try. Once more he wriggled around, doing his best to ignore the burning on his chest. A little bit of pain was not going to stop him, but only motivate him further. No one made Spike vulnerable and lived to tell about it! His confidence flew out the door as a worrying thought ignited. Why did he have to be in The Initiative? The First was playing to win and It knew every weakness It could prey upon. Not only did this place make Spike feel helpless, it reminded him that while he was here that’s exactly what he was. Every tool was at Wood’s disposal that made being a vampire a living nightmare. 

Wandering back over, Wood took notice of the struggling creature before him. A sense of happiness ascended, one which had only been felt a single time before; catching Spike to begin with. It was true; these were the best days Wood had ever spent, and quite possibly, the best days of his life. He’d look back on them with fondness and fulfillment. For now it was the present and there was much work to be done. As happy as he was in this moment, it was kind of bittersweet. Nothing would bring back the beauty and grace that had been his mother; though avenging her death felt like a good substitute. Wood fought back a tear knowing there wasn’t time for that, however overwhelming it became. His life’s work was finally accomplished. Or soon it would be; there was no need to get ahead of himself. Having been bombarded with feelings, Wood needed to get his focus back. Handing out Spike’s punishment called for the right attitude. He couldn’t very well be crying over the bloodsucker and expect to strike fear. Focusing on what had happened; the snapping of his mother’s neck; anger swelled up replacing all else. Wood was ready for vengeance. 

Grabbing a fistful of Spike’s hair; he yanked his head back, forcing his eyes to look directly at him. “I want you to feel all the pain that everyone you ever hurt felt when you were tormenting them.”

Spike gazed at him seriously, not through trepidation, but sincerity, “I feel it every day. Price of carryin’ a soul.”

Furiously, Wood slammed Spike’s head down hard against the table, causing everything around Spike to feel a bit fuzzy for a few moments. Wood stomped back over to the right hand side of the table. Seizing Spike’s right hand by means to crush it, poison shot out of Wood’s mouth, “This hand took my mother’s life! This hand!” Wood squeezed it harder with emphasis, “Is it suddenly someone else’s hand, now that you’ve got a soul? Is that what you’re saying Spike? Is it?” Wood’s eyes had never been so dangerous before and it was quite possible the wildness that was locked in there, could be violent enough to kill Spike.

For once Spike bit back any comments he had to make, any explanation that he could give. It didn’t matter to his captor what it meant to have a soul, he didn’t want to understand how it separated him from other beasts; the beast that he once was. It wasn’t Spike anymore, but that wasn’t going to make a difference now. It never would. 

“Answer me!” Wood grabbed onto Spike’s hair once again after being greeted with silence. If he tugged any harder Spike’s hair would have torn off into Wood’s hand.

Spike could only shake his head; the little that it could move, given the strength behind Wood’s hold. Wood’s anger didn’t ease up, but spoke with greater intensity, as he took hold of Spike’s sore hand, clutching it no lighter than before, “This moved! It moved, Spike! Because you wanted it. Both of them. Both of your hands moved. Together they snapped her neck!” Releasing his hand he took his own and squeezed both of Spike’s cheeks between his index finger and his thumb with as much force as he could put behind them, “Those fangs! They bit all those people. All those poor innocent people! Their blood is in your body! Bet your soul didn’t flush that out of your system, now did it? No, it didn’t. No, oh no it didn’t! They’re all still in there Spike! They’re all still in you! I say it’s time we bring them on out.”

 

***********************************************************************

Soggy grass was spread throughout the graveyard, causing ruin to any shoes that walked upon it. The storm appeared to have passed, but evidence of its encounter was scattered all over; making for a very messy slay. As the moon hung low, which lit up the scene; running in the dark became a lot easier, though having been at this for a few years, Buffy hardly needed the help. The ground; however, served to be a problem. Every step caused the slayer to sink deeper down into the muck. While doing her best to ignore this, brisk air slapped at Buffy’s face as she pursued a new risen fiend. The vampire was fast; even with the grimy condition of the ground they were trudging through. Buffy leapt through the air, landing on her enemy’s back, causing them both to take a fall. Quickly flipping the vampire over face side up; she raised her stake ready for the plunge. Instead, she received a powerful punch to the face, knocking her on her back. Her enemy stood up as she did the same, not hesitating to charge forward. As Buffy jumped up to kick the female vampire back to the ground, she caught hold of Buffy’s leg, throwing her backward. She fully expected to hit the muddy grass; and did, surprisingly taking down someone behind her. 

Immediately, Buffy recognized the woman she had been thrust into, but had no time for greetings; there was a fight to finish. Standing up, she couldn’t help but notice the mud that covered her clothes now. She looked at the evil menace responsible; mouth agape, “I hope you have the money to pay my dry cleaning bill! These were new clothes!” She angrily threw out a punch, momentarily forgetting about her guest’s arrival.

“Surprised you can patrol on your own. I expected the cavalry to be tagging along. Didn’t think you could get by without them.” The newcomer strolled over casually to where Buffy was combating, but didn’t interfere. 

Glancing over for only a moment, Buffy focused back in on the battle. She took hold of the vampire, securing her arms around the creature, holding her in one place, “You know Faith, you could help out at any time.”

The other Slayer pointed at the vampire being held firmly with fake politeness, “Oh, may I?” Revealing her own stake, Faith shoved it into their enemy’s heart fiercely; taking a step back to avoid getting dust all over her already muddy clothes. Her outfit was dirty enough from being slammed into the grass. 

Buffy clapped her hands getting any dusty remains off, “As you can see a lot has changed around here.” Her words were sarcastic as she gave a slight roll of the eye. 

“Oh yeah, you fight alone now. Brave girl.” Faith wasn’t too sure how to act around Buffy. They hadn’t left on the best terms, but she kept her insecurities on the inside. She wasn’t one to show her true feelings. The walls she had up around her had been built a long time ago and very few had ever penetrated them. Coming back to Sunnydale took a lot of courage; considering how her last visit had gone, but it looked like she was needed here. Faith wasn’t going to apologize for how things went. It was what it was; there was no taking it back. She’d fight the good fight; she didn’t need friends to do that. Faith didn’t need anyone. 

“I’m not alone. You’re here. I guess I planned it right,” Buffy shoved the stake she intended on using; before Faith had shown up, back into her pocket. Heading out of the cemetery, she carried on the conversation, “I think we can call it a night. The way my patrol has been going, it looks like that’s all the action we’re going to be getting.” The last time she had seen Faith there had been a lot of anger. Angel had stood between them, saving Faith from a world of hurt. Now, Buffy didn’t have time for the past, especially when it was quite possible there wouldn’t be a future. She constantly had to look at the big picture, and that told her to be grateful to have another key warrior on her team. Bygones needed to be bygones; the world depended on it. 

Following, Faith gazed around in surprise; seeing for the first time how dead everything appeared to be. “Big evil's going down? Figured the place would be hopping.” She tensed up waiting for the obvious insult to be dealt. There was no way Buffy was going to let it slip by. Faith had been evil; she would know something about that, right? But Buffy never said it. Things had changed in Sunnydale; it wasn’t just the side of evil that was different now. 

Walking the path she had come to know so well over the years, Buffy took her time. Doing this for as long as she had, getting home blindfolded wouldn’t have been a problem. Tonight she had company, and despite their rough patch it was welcomed. Buffy still couldn’t shake that feeling she had, something more drastic was about to happen. An event she felt the need to keep watching out for, but the problem was there were no clues on what it could be. All she had was a feeling, but nothing more specific than that. It was eerie, causing her to be grateful to have someone walking along with her; even if that person happened to be Faith, “The First is making preparations instead. Everything and everyone around here knows the end is coming. They’re busy picking sides and preparing for the big showdown, or they’re getting out of town.” 

“Getting out of town would be the more appealing option. Good way to save yourself. From what Willow tells me, The First doesn’t need any more recruits.” 

Buffy sighed and folded her arms by way of comforting herself, “No, it really doesn’t.” 

Looking over at Buffy’s demeanor, Faith felt concern start to fester. She had always seemed so sure of herself, able to come up with some kind of a plan; even when Faith had never been on board. She wasn’t used to seeing Buffy like this. Faith had seen her petrified before. Back when Faith had taken a life and their whole partnership fell to hell, that was the most terrified she had ever seen Buffy, but she still had ideas on what to do. What Faith was witnessing now was someone slightly more reserved and unsure; and in that moment she knew this evil was like one the world had never gone up against before. There was a real chance they’d lose and that failure was riding on the blonde slayer. “You think this thing is going to get past Sunnydale?”

“I hope not, but I don’t know. Every apocalypse we’ve gone up against has been beaten back. This is different. We’re talking about what evil comes from. It’s seen what we’ve got and it’s not trembling in the slightest. We’re slayers Faith. We’re suppose to be what evil has nightmares about, but instead they’re keeping me up; every single night. I keep up morale around the potentials. I tell them that we have a chance, but I really don’t know if that’s true. I can give speeches 24/7 about how it’ll be us in the end. At this point, it’s really not looking that way.” It was strange finding herself confiding all of this in Faith, but she had asked for the truth; if she was going to be fighting in this war, she deserved to get it. “I’m not saying we’re doomed. I’m not saying that we can’t win. We just need more. If I could figure out where to pick up some extra power, that’d be great.” Buffy offered a small laugh.

“Well hey; you got another teammate on board, B. That’s got to tip the scale a little.” 

As they walked up to the front door of her house, she looked at her with authenticity in her smile, “Welcome back Faith.” 

***********************************************************************

Observing the scene that lay before it, The First couldn’t help but find the whole thing rather cute. There they were; a house full of little girls; pretending each were a big bad slayer. Some practiced their kicks, others flipped stakes while catching them with a free hand, and the less confident huddled in a corner, discussing newly memorized battle tactics. This was the almighty force to be reckoned with? Hardly a challenge at all; maybe the First shouldn’t have kidnapped one of their stronger fighters, seeing the patheticness of this scene that hadn’t improved since its last visit. It almost felt obligated to lend a hand. Almost; slowly a smile crept up on the face that didn’t belong to It, the smell of defeat was in the air. To finally be able to take down good once and for all; it didn’t matter how easy this was coming together; the end result was the only thing of importance. In fact, the First Evil suspected this so called war would only take a few minutes, when it finally came down to it. After all the months of blood, sweat, and tears each and every one of them put into preparing for this war; defeat coming in the blink of an eye could only be icing on the cake. 

Hearing voices from outside the front door, it was evident that Buffy was home. Willow had informed everyone of the potential who had been put into the hospital. It appeared Caleb was getting a jump start on things in Sunnydale, much to the First’s liking. Judging from the obvious conversation Buffy was having, it looked as though Faith had caught up with the head slayer. Another warrior thrown into the mix, but it still wasn’t enough. That was the theme It was noticing around here. A theme that from the sound of the discussion Buffy was having, she was picking up on as well. The First was certain they could be taken down swiftly, still It was happy to know their opponents had brains after all; smart enough to see that there was nothing too impressive here, but only laughable. 

Backing towards the kitchen out of sight, the First listened as Faith was greeted by some familiar faces as well as new ones. Though It were dressed as Spike, a certain level of discretion needed to be taken. It needed Buffy to believe that Spike was still here for as long as possible; even if what had been learned from this little visit, was that Evil’s enemy was benign, you could never know your counter too well. In case of any surprises, the First was pleased to play the role of the spy, as well as keeping Buffy away from performing a rescue. As long as the vampire with a soul stayed out of this war, Buffy and her Slayerettes really didn’t stand a chance.

***********************************************************************

Deep cuts ran all over Spike’s body, forming a pool of blood, which dripped off the table and down to the floor. He had lain there quietly; despite the process being a slow and stinging one, but showing signs of pain was satisfaction he had promised himself he would not give.  
During the time it took to make these lacerations, Wood had grown quiet. With Spike keeping his mouth shut tight, the silence was deafening. It served as a reminder of how alone Spike was in this. Nikki Wood had died alone; now Spike would be punished with the same comfort of no one by his side. 

Spike watched the torturer at work as he sliced his body vigorously. Not wanting to admit it to even himself; he was becoming more afraid. It was starting to matter less that Wood was human; had Spike been free he’d still be able to bash his head in, but he was not free. Fury came to the surface as his jaw set angrily; Wood needed to watch out for when his impending release came. Play his sadistic games while he was still able, because once Spike broke out he’d drain the Principal dry; then he’d finish off by blowing the Initiative away once and for all. The image replayed in his mind over and over again; the sweet thought of being victor in the end would carry him through. 

Deciding to break the silence, Spike managed to find his voice again. He wanted to assure Wood that nothing he could do would be cause for distress, “Scent is rather comfortin’. Care to tell a fella what kind of cologne you’ve got on?” 

Wood forcefully backhanded Spike, hardly able to make it sting, but the point was not the pain; it was letting him know who was in control. He gripped Spike’s hair in his hand, forcing their eyes to meet, “I believe I requested that you remain quiet. Considering all the resources I’ve got access to in this place, it’d be wise of you to honor it. Is this matter clear now?”

He had pushed his head so far back that Spike couldn’t have responded anyway. Wood nodded his head, eyes still intensely fixed on Spike. He spoke in almost a whisper. “Good.”

Glancing over Spike’s body, Wood started to tingle all over with delight. There was so much left to cover. Spike’s body was masked by cuts, but that wasn’t nearly enough of a punishment; it was hardly a slap on the wrist. The room they were situated in filled Wood with more opportunities than he’d ever have been able to come up with on his own. There were more than enough supplies here to make the vampire scream out in agony, which in turn Wood could use to punish him for daring to make a sound. A sadistic grin formed once more at the thought. Spike having to suffer in complete silence. Wanting to howl out, but knowing it’d only be worse if he did; still unable to control the urges anyway. The thought of Spike’s sore abused body; the agony he’d be in, only to have more reigned down on him; always unable to appease his torturer. More pain in silence and added pain for releasing the desires of his throat. Wood wanted to get back to this right away! The image was too exciting to remain only a fantasy.

With an idea in mind, Wood went and turned on the oven in the back of the room, and turned menacingly back towards Spike, “Do you know what heresy is? Back in the day; even before your day, if someone was accused of this, the church would have them burned at the stake. Joan of Arc is a perfect example. She claimed to receive messages from God; well I’m sure you know the story. The details aren’t of importance. Not really. It’s the end result of the matter that I’m more interested in,” he looked at Spike darkly, “and you should be too. You see, she was accused of heresy, or blasphemy, or sacrilege, or whatever it is that you want to call it.” he waved his hand dismissively. “The point is Spike, she was burned for this. Isn’t that what you are? Your entire existence? It’s blasphemy Spike. It’s why every time a cross touches you-” Wood grabbed for the nearby one he had wielded earlier, slamming it back down on Spike’s already burned chest, watching the smoke rise, “your skin starts to boil!” Lifting the cross off, Wood tossed it aside and leaned over Spike as he kept calm, still making it apparent that there was rage underneath his soft spoken exterior. “Burning at the stake is not only very painful, but a very slow process.” He backed off the table, starting to pace back and forth in front of it, “Unfortunately, I don’t have a stake. I could get one, but it’d be time taken away from your punishment.” He shook his head contemplatively, “No, this is more important.” Looking up at Spike as though his news were good, hands now on the table, he patted it encouragingly. “I do have this. That’s really all I need. You’re nice and secure, so we can recreate this, very slowly. Don’t worry,” Wood went back to the little oven in the corner, and took the hotplate off, carrying it back to the table. “I’ll make sure I cover your entire body, inch by inch.” Lowering the red-hot plate down towards his captive, his smile was hidden behind the plate, but Spike could see his ominous eyes, “I love the smell of burnt vampire in the morning!”

Sniffing the air, Wood held the hotplate down on the freshly made laceration carved into Spike’s leg; it provided a smell like no other. Most people got sick from the scent of burning flesh, but Wood found it rather comforting. It was his enemy after all; he had waited a long time to take in such a pungent odor. As he held the plate steadily, he looked up noticing the look of horror on Spike’s face; trying in desperation to mash his body further down against the table, and away from the scorching heat, “Remember Spike,” Wood spoke in a taunting tone. “I don’t want to hear a peep out of you.” It was a lie, he wanted to hear the wretched Beast scream, but Wood was smart enough to know that with letting Spike know that, it would probably never come. Spike did have his pride, and he was stubborn as a mule. Either way, it was a win/win situation for him. If Spike refused to scream, all Wood had to do was take a gander at his face, and the agony was written all over it. For now; at least, that was satisfying enough. 

Moving his arm in an upward motion, the hotplate found it’s way to a new home; deciding that he’d burn every incision made. At the rate Wood was going, it would take a while to complete. The rush that was coming from this quite possibly could have been an aphrodisiac. Wood started to feel his own hand tremble, as the burns spread beyond the cuts, and onto unscathed areas of Spike’s skin. It was too much to handle; the thrill had overtaken him, and he needed to find a way to satisfy this sudden hunger. Longing for this day to arrive, Wood had wondered how it would feel, smell, sound like. Now he finally knew! The scent and scenery was indescribable and he could have sworn a small whimper escaped Spike lips. He bolted up pleased by this; he had hoped the vampire would make a sound, “What’s the matter Spike? Did that make you uncomfortable?” Before Spike had time to process Wood’s words, he was right in front of his face, staring him down with the hotplate only inches away from his chin, “Didn’t mean to do that, why would I want to? You’ve been such an upstanding citizen. I really should apologize, shouldn’t I?” Wood shook his head laughing.

Spike tried to look at Wood, but all he could focus on was the hotplate in his hand, and the heat coming from it. Despite the distraction that plate was giving off, Spike had heard that last part, and glanced over now in wonderment along with fear. Dammit, this just couldn't continue. How long would it take for Buffy to track him down and come this time? 

***********************************************************************

The sun was forced from the sky again once darkness overthrew it. A reminder that shadows couldn’t stay away for long, and most likely had never left. Sitting down on the steps of her quiet wooden front porch, Buffy stared out at the muddy grass, wearing a ruined outfit destroyed earlier that evening. If she couldn’t save the world it wouldn’t matter what she wore; nothing would matter anymore. If the girl in the hospital was able to open her eyes once again, there could be hope for a new lead. Until then they were all sitting ducks, and if there was one thing Buffy hated, it was being vulnerable. The girls had taken slumber, tucked away safely from what lurked beneath the shadows. Still, Buffy remained not only awake but outside; she was always ready to face things. Right now, given the mood she was in, Buffy wanted to face something. 

 

Feeling a pair of eyes suddenly on her, she looked up and saw the figure which appeared to be Spike. He stood in front of the steps gazing down on her, seemingly careful about interrupting thoughts she were having. Buffy offered him a small smile, a way of letting Spike know he wasn’t trespassing on a needed private moment. Alone time was probably a bad thing for Buffy; given thinking space, her mind grew wild and all hope suddenly seemed lost. “Why are you always around when I’m miserable?” Her tone was light in obvious reference to something long past.

Having knowledge to the memories Buffy was referring to, It put a sincere smirk on Spike’s face and echoed his words from the previous year. “‘Cause that’s when you’re alone I reckon.” It paused not making a move, but studied her for moment, “Come out here to get away from people?”

“More or less, they’re all asleep. I needed a breather anyway.” Buffy shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Good thing I’m not people then.” Mimicking Spike’s attitude and mannerisms, It moved a couple steps forward, making sure to keep out of reach.

“I doubt that would stop you anyway,” Not removing her gaze she was holding on him, Buffy started to speak with uncertainty. “Everyone is pulling their weight in there. Everyone is doing all that they can do, some are doing more than that. I can’t ask for anything besides what they’re giving me, but I’m going to have to. I don’t know if I can gain anything from doing it, but I need to. If you saw what The First is packing, you’d know that we don’t have nearly enough power on our side.”

“What about Faith?”

“Faith will help.” Buffy spoke with confidence, but of course there was a “but” following that statement. “But two slayers against an army of uber-vamps, plus Bringers coming at us from every direction, it can only help so much.” A little bit of pep went back into her voice now, there was recognition that she hadn’t handed out before. “It could be our first real break though. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, right? Something to indicate that we have more power, it’s a start.” Buffy looked out, past Spike, and towards the street with newfound hope striking her, “And look, the storm already stilled. If the ground is solid enough tomorrow the girls can train in it; if not, I hope they don’t mind getting a little dirty.”

The First wanted to stare at her dumbfounded, but had to keep a look of agreement on Spike’s face. Perhaps its opponent didn’t have the brains It thought she had after all. She was utterly clueless about the amount of power that had suddenly gone missing from her team. The First wasn’t disappointed in this; in fact It was thrilled to see its plan had come together so easily. Too distracted to notice the number one sign ultimate evil had taken up residence; not touching a thing. Not getting close to anyone; which was a trait Spike had to begin with, so The First couldn’t blame Buffy for not becoming suspicious of that one. Still, he was keeping back away from her of all people, and Buffy was rambling on about the added power she had; the start of something bigger and better for them. It really was adorable how naïve and oblivious this slayer was turning out to be, “Think you’re on to somethin’ there Buff.”

Buffy stood up with a new feeling of confidence growing inside of her, “Thanks for listening. I think I’m going to head to bed.” She made her way inside with The First following a few paces behind her. It was when the front door shut that the rain started falling once again.


	3. That Which Is and That Which Cannot Be

The throbbing and aching was constant; abuse was now the unfolding pattern of his days. He guessed he should be grateful. At least that meant that they had a pattern.  
The comings and goings of his capturer, and recurring beatings and cuts and burns, amidst their oh-so-nice chatter, were the only things that reminded him of the passing of time, in this great vast vacuum his unlife had become down here. The only events to break it up. He had never been the most patient bloke. Never the one for waiting. And down here, that was all there was to do. Wait, lay down. stare up into the same empty ceiling, over the same unchanging room, still, forever. Even time was still in here. It never changed, never moved. There was no calendar, no clock to watch, and no sound of its ticking either. Even nights had stopped following after days down here, with those piercing bright lights never turned off. If the matter hadn't hurt so much, he could have chuckled. This was the Torture Chamber of Eternal Daytime. Kind of appropriate, for a place to keep a hated vampire. He wondered if this was part of Wood's intended torture. To keep him, a creature of the dark, bathed in constant faked sunshine.

He tried to close his eyes, harder still, for the umpteenth time. It was no good. That stark, white light shone through his eyelids. It shone through his head too, it seemed, all the way in, fried his brain to mush, and he'd be darned if it didn’t soon crust the rest of him with dust as well. His body was screaming at him that he couldn’t lay there in so much light. He was tense as a bowstring, constantly, and had hardly slept in who knew how long it had been since he had been taken. "It's not the sun" he reminded himself. "It's ordinary lamp light. It can't dust you. It's unpleasant, that's all. It won't do much actual harm. Soon Buffy will come and get you out, and the first thing you'll ask is to get that damn light off. You'll relax then. Go out in the dark, and never turn on a light switch again." 

He sighed. 

He knew that he couldn’t relay on the scoobies to come busting through those doors at any given second, so he tried his hand at breaking free of the restraints. Again. He needed to get up! He needed to find Wood, rip into his neck, and drain him of blood! 

Blood!! Another series of pangs of gnawing pain erupted in his stomach, ferocious enough to stop Spike’s attempts at escape. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for it to pass; this wasn’t the first one that emerged. He took his tongue and attempted to wet his cracked lips, imagined that the drops of spit he was able to smear around his lips were fresh blood instead. Healing, life giving blood, rich in taste and in energy. But as he tried to suck in, he found himself biting the loose skin off his lips instead. 

Hunger. It hadn't felt this bad since he had his last visit to these premises, and those G.I. Git's had neutered him, and made him incapable of feeding himself. Or, on second thought, this was worse. Back then it had true enough been a horrible stress, and taken a long time till he had finally managed to persuade the scoobies to feed him, but at least he hadn't been injured, and needing extra blood for healing back then. 

But all wasn't lost. The chip was gone now, and once broken free there would be nothing holding him back; which Wood would soon get to notice. It would do him good to keep in mind just who it was he had for a punching bag these days. If not, The Principal would soon find himself up against a wall with his neck exposed. Beaten down and unfed; now his head felt light, like a big wad of cotton. His stomach felt like it was constricting within him, as his teeth bit down harder on his bottom lip. It should have been bleeding right now, but his teeth came up dry; not a trickle or a spill to be seen. Right now he clearly was in no position to wreak such desired havoc. Step One was getting off this table and Step Two was draining that nasty bugger. He wondered if slayer sons tasted as good as slayers. His mouth watered at the thought. His first brick wall that needed pounding through; getting out of this, it was going to be a long day…

Squeaky metal cut through the sounds of silence and thoughts of light, hunger and vengeance, as angry shoes stomped around out of sight. Spike wiped off any look of pain and yearning that had decided to represent his emotions and quickly replaced that with an image of boredom. Thinking on it just then, Spike was bored, there was not even television here after all; pangs of hunger could only be so entertaining

The sound of rummaging could be heard and then sudden darkness fell over his face as he gazed up at the only thing that could be causing it; Wood stood tall, his left hand to his side as the right one gripped tightly around a container; it looked as though he might snap the thing in half. Spike stared at him unusually quiet, the familiar scent of blood were flowing from the container and caressing his nostrils. It seemed all that was separating him from such sweet pleasure was plastic. His stomach growled madly, in desperate need of nourishment. 

As he pictured himself lifting his head up towards it, restraint took over him. Once he was registering what was happening, he looked away in disgust. The bastard ripped the container’s cover open and let it linger inches from his mouth; all Spike had to do was raise his head and let the sweet sticky liquid massage his throat. He kept his eyes averted; mouth shut tightly. He had been burned and cut by this man, done in and then left to stew, without being able to do anything at all to resist it. He wasn’t about to let things continue like that. If Wood now had decided to do something that, even in the slightest, required his cooperation, he was not gonna get it. 

Spike couldn’t wait to be freed; finally able to follow through on what he told Buffy that he would do if Wood ever so much as looked at him funny. Wood gave him a funny look now, likely noting a smirk that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Vengeance was gonna be so tasty!

The container was thrust forward, now touching the side of his face. Spike slowly eyed it. All he had to do was take a mouth full. There was no need to finish it either, just enough to soothe his angry stomach. Temptation, but he clenched his hands together forming a fist focusing on the blood he’d later be drinking, and he eyed Wood’s neck with that idea kept firmly in mind.

“Don’t even think it.” Wood gave Spike a strong backhand having followed the motion of his eyes. 

Spike hardly felt a sting, but it had jerked his head against the metal of the table, and that had caused mild discomfort. He was annoyed. 

“Be a good boy and drink your dinner. Who knows when it’ll come again?” Giving him a menacing smile, The Principal tipped the container back towards Spike’s chapped lips.

“Will when it suits me” Spike spoke simply, though his eyes had returned to the dark fluid, which gave him away as much as his salivating mouth. 

It would be so easy, a sip or two, but the cost was so much greater. A shiver ran through his body, he was stronger than this, he had to be. His knotted aching stomach screamed at him, and perhaps taking a drink would really be what was giving him strength. Perhaps it didn’t mean weakness. It could be the exact opposite. It was merely a battle tactic, mend any remaining wounds, and gain strength that had been lost. That was a nice thought too, that he could feed and be strong again. With that logic in mind, still a glare in his eye, he opened his mouth and allowed for the sweet sticky liquid to fill his mouth, massaging his throat as it went down. He was on his way to becoming strong again, and then the tables could turn.

***************************************************  
Humming

There was a humming that he hadn’t picked up on before. Spike had probably noticed it, but never really paid attention. He had too much time to pay attention now. After having fed him, Wood had stormed out of the lab once again, leaving him to stew. How long had he been gone? Spike didn’t know exactly. It had to have been days by now; at least. It felt like so much longer, but he allowed for comforting thoughts of ripping into Wood’s jugular to help pass the time. He’d make this maniac pay, even if he had to put up with weeks upon weeks of torture. He laughed in the face of pain, hardly shuddered under torture; if anyone could get through something like this, it would have to be him. Right? 

Wriggling where he was left lying, Spike continued throwing all his might against that which bound him down. The blood was working its magic; for the time he had been able to throw about with actual might, he’d be sweating if vampires could. The idea of breaking free made him almost be able to feel his unbeating heart do as it was unable to. With his current condition he could take The Principal by surprise. He’d tie him up and have a bit of fun of his own; see how Wood liked being burned by a hotplate. If he could…just…get…

Thud

His back was arched back against the metal, his breaths were coming fast, and he could feel himself shaking, both hands unable to slam hard against the table. He tried to thrust himself wildly, but the only areas which could be lifted were a bit of his back and his head. He let out an infuriated scream; he should have been stronger than this! After all that blood, he should have been able to rip through his prison right away. He was unsupervised; his weakness replaced with the strength of a warrior, why couldn’t he act like one? He felt as though he were foaming at the mouth, his tongue running over his fangs; he wanted a drink. He wanted a very particular drink that he could only get if he were freed from this prison! With that in mind, he threw himself into a fit of rage, the bounds now cutting into his skin, but nevertheless doing their job. 

Spike felt himself calm; a feeling of exhaustion that comes along when the stench of defeat overtakes. Stomping in a far off hallway caught his ears.

STOMP STOMP STOMP

Spike jerked head towards the door; it was useless as it was out of eyesight, but the doors squeaking open verified the conclusion he had come to, “Back again, Lover? Had you been interested in somethin’ kinky, you should have just asked me.”

Wood didn’t make his presence known; the only indication that he was still in the room was the continued sound of angry shoes and his unforgettable scent. Spike huffed, figuring that his comment had fallen on deaf ears; it wasn’t as though he had been thinking long and hard on a good insult to say when his captor finally returned, but some kind of acknowledgement would have been nice.

THWACK

Sharp and stinging pain, a small amount of blood ran from a split open lip. Licking it up with his tongue, Spike’s irritated gaze looked up at the shadow hovering over him.

“Now, didn’t we have a little rule about talking?” The Principal’s voice was relaxed, but the tension in his body reached volumes. 

“Was just sayin’ what we were both thinkin’, yeah?” Spike eyed the instrument that Wood held at his side, “Or what you’re bloody well thinkin’ anyway; tied down and you’ve got a soddin’ whip.” 

THWACK

 

Another punishing blow spoke of Wood’s displeasure on his stomach. Spike let out a laugh, “I had a girlfriend once, who used to do this same thing, ‘s not torture Mate, ‘s foreplay.”

Wood huffed and he puffed, and Spike could have sworn he heard a growl. He had been tortured by the ultimate evil itself, taking a licking from The Principal was hardly enough to make him quiver in his boots; not that he had any on at the moment.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

 

The snap of the whip mixed in with the sound of Spike’s laughter was all that could be heard, as Wood threw all his weight into the work that was being done; trying to best his captive, who didn’t seem threatened enough by this form of abuse. As Wood continued on, his victim’s arm, then chest, and finally his most private of areas were punished for such insolence; had to shut his eyes when the last blow came, wincing from the pain that it brought. Silence took over, but only for a moment. 

“Now, now, we’re headin’ down the road of S&M, and we haven’t agreed on safe word yet!” He gave Wood a cheeky smile.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Wood shook his head, “You just don’t learn. You don’t learn, but you will. I’ll see to that.” He took ahold of Spike’s foot, quickly twisting it; despite the restraints resistance, causing a loud crack to ripple through the room.

Spike bit down on his bottom lip, but not a sound came from him. He felt the softness of touch around his wrist now; however, it wasn’t long until hot pain shot up and down his arm. His hand went limp, but continued to throb. Yet, he remained silent. The snap of a whip presumed once more; blow after blow, some aimed to hit the same area three or four times, and he could smell his own blood. He didn’t cry out, he didn’t yell, but he was now starting to feel the desired effects of the device. He grimaced, but he had already betrayed his pride and dignity once before, he wouldn’t do that again.

************************************************************************

Time for a break and his whole body ached. It was an annoying sort of pain. It wouldn’t have gotten under his skin so much if he could do something about the throbbing in his probably broken wrist, his ankle, or the lashes he had received. He had to lie there, and this was only the beginning of events; more pain was to come next time.  
************************************************************************

Tension filled the room, as six pairs of eyes fell on one person; Buffy. She was the person in charge, giving orders, making all the tough decisions, and saving the world. A responsibility that day in and out she seemed fairly casual about, and even peppy at times. The times she had to deal with now; however, earned her serious face, along with pressing thoughts, and ulcer awarding concerns. The fate of human kind rested in such young hands; powerful as they were, but still only recently coming out an age of innocence. Even back then, life’s fate had always fallen on her shoulders. Per usual these days, she had to jump into business. Personal lives didn’t exist anymore; though it had been hard to let go of. It was all about the mission these days. 

“This preacher; whatever he is, claims he has something of mine. I say we go get it.” Buffy stood up straight, hands on her hips; commanding was the look she was going for. Being a leader, she needed to exhibit these qualities not only with confidence, but body language as well; or so Google had told her. 

“We don’t know what this thing is Buffy that he claims to have. We can’t be reckless, running in there half-cocked, it sounds to me that this is exactly the reaction he wants you to have.” Giles firmly pointed out. 

“It could be another potential.” Buffy replied calmer than she felt.

“It could be a stapler!” Giles shot back full of frustration, “We have no way of knowing if this is a trap, now Buffy we cannot act rash at a time like this.”

“Way I see it, there’s only one way to find out if something’s a trap. That’s walking right into it. If you think something might be a trap; well hey, bring one of your own.” Faith spoke up insightfully. 

“Putting this many lives at stake? It’s too risky, we simply cannot do this.” Giles remained adamant, though his concerns had seemingly gone unheard. 

“And how long are we suppose to wait? Until they decide to get the drop on us?” Faith never thought the day would come that she and Buffy would see eye to eye on something; especially when it involved slaying. Their styles had always been polar opposites, but this time Buffy was taking a chance; Faith liked it.

“This is people’s lives we’re talking about! Have we all forgotten about this? You bring people in there and some are going to die!” Giles focus went to Buffy as he spoke that last statement.

Buffy saw where Giles’ gaze fell; a fire rose within her, causing her to take a challenging step towards him, “You really think I don’t know that! As if I’m not carrying the weight of these girl’s destinies on my shoulder day in and day out! There’s a reason why there’s one leader and it’s me; I’m the one who has to make the tough decisions. You can disagree with them, you can challenge me on it, but in the end I have to make these choices. In the end something had to be decided and I’ve decided that this is exactly what needs to be done. If I can find a way to take down the First and ruin its plans without having to go to war, I will find it! For all I know, it’s in the vineyard right now!”

Giles looked up at the ceiling and sighed; she was going against him again, as to be expected. Still, he had a horrible feeling about what was to come. It couldn’t only be obvious to him; that something had already been set up for their demise. Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, Giles heard Spike open his trap.

The First had to keep the grin off Spike’s face, and focus on presenting a more serious and determined expression, “Buffy’s right. Know you all think I‘m a bit biased in that department,” Its eyes scanned the room from Xander to Willow, on to Giles, and then glanced towards Buffy before continuing, “where the Slayer is involved, not surprisin’ I’d follow her lead, yeah? Still tell it how it is, especially in times like these where her life is involved. Truth is this, she’s right. Can’t wait ‘round, can’t let The First run this, that’s what we’re doin’. Lettin’ The First set the rules. Say we go in there, weapons ablazin’, show ‘em what we got. Realize my opinion doesn’t carry much weight. Won’t trust it, fine. Trust her,” It pointed a confident finger towards Buffy, “Led you through apocalypse after apocalypse she did, never let you down. She’s earned your trust.”

Buffy wanted to reach over and hug Spike, but now wasn’t the time for that. In fact, Buffy had decided there would be time for it later, even if she had to go out of her way to make it. For now though, they were all on the same page, and had a battle to prepare for.

***************************************************

It wasn’t too surprising when Wood had left earlier, grown tired of the tedious chore of striking his bare skin with the unmerciful instrument. His skin had become punished, but his captor’s arm was feeling a different kind of burn causing him to retreat and leave Spike alone to wait for yet another good long while. 

Staring up at his tormentor again, as he was standing there with the whip in hand, Spike had to recognize that the wait was once again drawing to a close, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was grateful or disappointed by this fact. He didn’t care for the pain and this undoubtedly was going to sting, but at the same time when he was left alone with the worries of how long it was till the pain resumed, that was the only thoughts which could fill his mind. He wasn’t scared of a little discomfort; he just didn’t like the anticipation of it. 

The droplets falling from it burned his flesh and it was apparent that the implement had been casually positioned over his chest for the very purpose. Spike gasped out; the once harmless weapon, which had taken so long to have any real effect on him, now punished his skin so easily. It was the most emotion that he was going to hand over to his captor. Still, he had to give the guy credit for finally getting creative enough to figure out how to hurt him without wearing his arm out. On the other hand, Wood had to be deeply stupid. Wood being human and he a vampire; two and two really should have come together sooner. Even so, he had finally decided on using that thing in his head known as a brain; no matter how small it was, and there was no mistaking what this device had been soaked in. It was not regular water that took the blood off it from their earlier encounter. It was not regular water handing out cleanliness. No, this water had been blessed…

“Look on the bright side,” Wood smiled down at him eerily, “at least my arm won’t give out now.” 

A laugh and the beating proceeded. 

Spike’s skin sizzled, his back arching, as this reaction was consequently his only defense against the terror being reigned down upon him. It wasn’t much of a defense at all; if it could in fact be called that, this action brought him closer to the weapon. He was growing use to the smell of burning flesh; this seemed to be an emerging theme of his captor. It came about in different ways, but scorched skin was just that. He had braced himself for the blows of course, but it never helped. The only thing it kept him from doing was yelping loudly and it was clear that this would be his only victory. Even he couldn’t deny the defeat that was taking place; stripped and strapped to a table, being punished by the convenience of his tormenter. It was a far cry from success, but hope was not lost on him.

Skin split open and Wood maliciously allowed for the water to drip into the wounds, as Spike’s face reddened from indescribable pain. The whip came down on the same area, quick and sharp, he made sure each spot was properly disciplined before moving on somewhere else and repeating the process. His arms, legs, thighs, stomach, were all treated in a similar manner. 

“What was that you were saying before about kink?” Wood allowed for the whip to land sharply across his thigh once more.

Spike let out a laugh while biting his bottom lip through the sensation brought on, “That you would make an excellent first date; if one’s into this sorta thing.”

 

He got out a cheeky grin before his face was slashed by the torturous instrument. He could feel his skin bubbling where the wound was and his jaw tightened in anger, “So this is all about your late mum. Well, let me ask you somethin’ Sonny, what would she say if she could see her boy now?” 

The whip fell against Spike’s body with more fire behind it in the last blows he had received, coming down with each word that fell past Wood’s lips, “Don’t you ever. Talk. About. My Mother. Again!” He glared down at him, his fists clenched, and he was ready to snap the vampire in half. “You don’t get to talk about her! You don’t even think about her!”

“Thing ‘bout Slayers is; and I know ‘bout slayers, thing ‘bout ‘em is, they’re for the quick kill. Sure they hunt us, fight us, sometimes get a lil carried away with the beatin’, but all in all it‘s over with quickly if they win, stake to the heart and we’re dust. Don’t tie us up, don’t torture us for hours beforehand. Not sayin’ I want you to slay me. Just sayin’ it wasn’t a fair fight. You had to tranquilize me to be able to beat me, torture me, and eventually what? Slay me? Your mother was better than that.” 

The sting of the whip fell once more along his chest, but after a wince from the blow, Spike merely carried on. “Have more respect for the bird; more than you, and I offed her. It‘s not the point. Not really. What would she say? Doin’ a disservice to the job that she did. The Slayer’s son, captivatin’ vampires, too much of a coward to give ‘em a chance to defend themselves. Doin’ this to the ones who are on your side no less.”

“You murdered her!” Wood swung the whip down harshly once, twice, three more times, his targets were aimless, he just wanted to hit skin.

Spike spoke through the pain, separated it from his mind; now he was causing a rise, there was no backing down, and he by no means wanted to. “Bet she’d be bloody disappointed in you.” 

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” The whip fell endlessly on his face, blood spilled down, bubbling skin now split open, and the holy water wetting already sore areas until the whole left side of his face was completely raw. 

Quietness took over the room as Wood’s shoulders rose and fell, out of breath, he watched the weakened creature, as Spike’s eyes fixed on him. It took Spike a second before he was able to speak, and he wondered for a moment if he’d be able to. Finally the words came out. “Come…Come on…know you can…do better…than…than that.” 

Spike’s eyes closed as his body stilled against the table, just as he was overtaken by a black abyss. 

************************************************************************

After checking out the vineyard earlier with Faith, it was time to get down and dirty with the team. Deciding to only take the potentials that had been there the longest, they set out for their destinations. Buffy had divided the groups up, those going in first, and then back up outside in case they proved to be needed. All any of them could do was hope it wouldn’t be necessary, but each knew Caleb seemed too cocky in that message; things were probably going to get messy. So they walked quietly, with the company of others in the same boat, but still completely and utterly alone. Thoughts of near death causing panic in their stomachs; it took all they had to carry forward, but despite such feelings each appeared ready and confident. Looking in each team member’s face, it was hard to see the fear, but everyone knew it was there, because they carried the same emotion; all that mattered was that the opposing side was unable to see it. Buffy was going to make Caleb regret ever harming one of the girls; it’d be a night he wouldn’t forget.

The trudging steps of warriors could not be heard, silence was enforced in order to keep their presence a secret. This silence was broken when a deep voice spoke out just above a whisper. “Hey, where’s Spike?”

Buffy whirled around, causing every shoe to stop in its track. Her focus fell on Xander, who had spoken up; acknowledging his words, but then quickly she scanned crowd behind her, looking for the bleach blonde. With wide eyes, as she realized he was not there, Buffy quickly addressed the group. “Has anyone seen where Spike went? Did he tell anyone where he was going?”

The only response she got was concerned faces as the heads they were attached to shook in an answer of no. The panic within her couldn’t be held in, though it had been present this whole time. “Do you think,” her voice trailed off for a moment; she swallowed trying to get control of herself. She spoke calmly, but sternness was there, as Buffy tried to keep the shakiness out of her voice, in a low tone. “Do you think something might have grabbed him?”

“That’s not possible, given the amount of people that were around him.” Xander kept his eyes downcast for a moment, as he knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say next. “It’s more likely he fled.” He met her gaze once it was said, searching for a reaction.

Buffy folded her arms disbelievingly, “Without someone noticing? Same logic applies.” The frustration that she imagined was in her voice disappeared; a feeling of nausea replaced it. This wasn’t adding up, but she knew Spike wouldn’t abandon them; he wouldn’t abandon her. “We should turn around and go look for him. If something’s happened, he’s going to need our help.” Buffy started to walk forward, prepared to lead everyone back through the night and away from the vineyard. 

Her motion was stopped as Xander’s voice caught her attention once more. His tone was light, as it always became in the face of impending doom. “That’d be a great idea. That is if we hadn’t just been spotted.”

Turning her attention to the direction Xander was facing, she immediately saw what he was referring to. Bringers were coming towards them. Suddenly, it wouldn’t matter which way the Slayer was facing; or anyone of them for that matter, they were surrounding them on all sides. Buffy’s fist shot up, ready to spring into action, “Get ready!” she called out, but figured that much already fairly obvious. Her mind raced back to Spike; if there were this many of them watching and lurking, it was entirely possible they could have snatched him. Killed him…

Buffy quickly shook her head, that wasn’t a thought she wanted to have right now. More importantly, it was a thought that she couldn’t afford to have. It’d get her killed; and if he was alive, it’d get Spike killed if she couldn’t get there to save him in time. Buffy stared into their evil faces, usually feeling sympathy for the blind, but the more they kept messing with her not boyfriend, the less she was feeling sorry for them. Still, why hadn’t they attacked yet? They were just standing there. Buffy started to take a step forward, when she saw her movement had caused a reaction from them. The one that was clearly in command of the rest of the Bringers, gestured with its head towards the entrance of where Buffy figured Caleb must be. The Bringers kept all sides of them surrounded; much to Buffy’s annoyance, they were heading there to begin with. It wasn’t as though they needed an escort. 

Down in the cellar with the rest of her team, she saw the man who had been eager to meet her. So eager in fact that he had stabbed one of her members, and taken hold of something that sounded as though it were of precious value. Hands on her hips, she took a confident step towards him, “I heard you’ve got something of mine.”

An evil grin mixed with laughter spread over Caleb’s face, “I do now…”

Caleb was laughing now, but he wouldn’t be able to do so for much longer. Buffy didn’t have time to spend on this. Spike was missing now, and not only was he one of her team members, but a friend to her as well. This needed to be settled right here and now, but she wasn’t going to kill him; not at first. She’d chain him up and each of his minions, and then they could find out for themselves what it really meant to be a slayer. Luckily for her, she had a lot of energy to spare, and there would be no rest until she found out what happened to Spike. Caleb was about to learn what it really meant to battle a Slayer, and he was in for a rude awakening. 

************************************************************************

Something was different, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but something was off. His eyes were now opened; the place was once again empty, which meant that The Principal had made his leave. That wasn’t it; things wouldn’t have felt so different if that were the case. It wasn’t as though it was the first time Wood had to leave for the day. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it and his whole front side seemed to throb. There was something different to this throbbing that he hadn’t grown accustomed to, a kind of pressure, coolness, and the angle of the room changed. Had Wood done some redecorating while he was conked out? Wood was probably angry about the fact that he had lost consciousness. It was no fun to play with a toy whose batteries wore out, but he digressed, it was hardly the point. The real matter at hand was this pressure, yet cold feeling on his chest and stomach, as well as the difference in the room. Going to rub the sleep out of his eyes, he was greeted with a sharp pain, causing a stifled version of what would have been a loud “Bloody Hell.” Even the hand that wasn’t injured couldn’t budge, though it had seemed he had been trying to lift it in a different way than before. Instead of bringing it up, his arm wanted to bring it to the sides and then over to his eyes. It then dawned on him in his tired and now holy water infested state what was taking place, the weird look to the room, the foreign discomfort to his wounds, his oddly chained hands.

Git flipped me over!

Wood had the nerve to flip him over while he was unconscious. It was premeditated; his back was ready to meet cruel and unusual punishment, pretty soon there would be no comfortable way for him to lie; not with the way he was being fed blood. He had wounds that needed healing, and they did, when his captor remembered to hand out some nutrition. None for him today it seemed, Wood had taken off, and left him to once again bite away at the dead skin forming on his chapped lips; even water would be a gift right about now, and part of him worried he would dust from the holy water he could still feel eating away at his insides. Logically, he understood that there wasn’t enough, even if the drenched whip had covered his body repeatedly; still he wondered if bits of dust would be found once he was flipped over again; not enough to kill him, but certainly a good amount to remind him that a dusting was something he was very close to. 

He would have none of that. This psychopathic son of a slayer was not going to be the one to take him down. The First Evil itself hadn’t been able to break him; what made him think that taking on a partnership with The Failure would allow for success? 

“Spike! What have they done to you?”

The sound of her voice interrupted his thoughts. He lifted his head up as much as possible in an attempt to see her, his nostrils flared with the wonderful scent of her, his ears were dead set on catching up more of that sound. She had come for him! He knew she would. 

“Buffy…” His voice was dry when he spoke, but he had managed to get the name out. A smile formed at the corner of his mouth. He listened to her as she continued to speak, in a voice of concern, with anger boiling beneath it. Always the hero, ready to save those she cared about and more than ready to deal with anyone that harmed them. She cared about him. He had already known this of course, but it still gave him a warm feeling inside whenever he saw it come out of her so naturally. 

“Spike I’m going to get you out of this; just hang on.”

“How many times are we goin’ to meet like this?” A smirk fell over his battered face; he really needed to stop getting tied up and tortured, it was forming an uncomfortably predictable pattern in his unlife.

Buffy reached out for the bounds that held his hands, but then gasped and pulled back. “Your wrist…” Her hand trailed down it, barely above the fracture, as if she wouldn’t touch it, for fear of jostling up the injury all the more. She looked into his eyes. “It's really a mess. It's gonna take a long time for that hand to be able to hold something again.” She walked down along his side, carefully inspecting his bare body. Her eyes soon fixed on his equally buggered up ankle, which she bowed down to examine closer. "and this is no better, it seems." her voice shook with worry. "Looks like you aren't gonna be walking around any time soon, Spike."

He lifted an eyebrow. “Ah yeah, that‘s why I’d like some help to get movin’, get some blood, and do a bit of healin’.” 

She shook her head. “I can’t use you Spike.”

If his heart had a beat, it would have stopped right then and there. Confusion filled his head, and underneath that was a layer of deep hurt. “What do you mean? Buffy, get me out of here.” He didn’t want to sound like he was begging; this was Buffy, she would never leave him behind. He had no need to worry; right now she simply wasn’t being clear.

A tear slid down her cheek. “This isn’t easy for me, seeing you like this. The strong warrior I once had, who used to be helpful in a fight. Now ... there’s no place for you anymore.” Looking down at the ground, she chose her next words carefully, before her eyes met his again. “You got caught - again. You’re covered in wounds that I don’t…I don’t have time to mend. A real warrior…” Her facial features suddenly seemed colder, less upset, replaced with an almost angry disappointment. “A real warrior could hold his own. You’ve been destroyed; you’re no good to the cause. You’re of no use to anyone anymore.”

Just before Spike made an attempt at speaking up, another voice filled the room. A less welcomed voice and one which always made him want to revert back to the most violent of tendencies when he heard it.

Angel.

“Well we both know that isn’t true.” He moved up behind Buffy, and draped his arm casually around her waist. “That Principal…what’s his name? Oh, it doesn’t matter. He’s found plenty of use for him.”

Buffy let out a hearty laugh before smacking her palm against her head. “Oh you’re right!” She looked at Spike energetically. “You hear that Spike, you’re not entirely useless to the cause. Wood has been so stressed lately, and as you know he’s also a part in stopping the apocalypse. You’ll be a good way to alleviate that stress; you know, help him to keep his head in this. So…” She looked to Angel for confirmation.” He’s sort of helping…right?”

Angel nodded. “He was always a great help whenever I needed a punching bag.”

Spike stared at the two of them in horror. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what was going on here, but the sight of it made his heart cry out, “Bugger off,” his voice defiant now. “You’re not them.”

Buffy and Angel exchanged a glance before the more broody one spoke up, his voice calm and toned as if he were soothing a young child. “Don’t worry about a thing. The apocalypse will be all taken care of.”

Buffy put both her arms around Angel, hugging him close, while she gave Spike a million dollar smile. “I’ve already got a vampire to take care of things to me; my strongest fighter in this.”

Anger, rage, animosity; there wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Spike was feeling. It wasn’t them. He knew this. Buffy may indeed not care too much about him, and love Angel instead, but she wouldn’t leave him under conditions like these. Never. It wasn’t them. It was evil darkness. It wasn’t them.

So why did it sting as if it were? 

“That’s right.” Angel spoke in almost a sing-song voice, as he smiled back at Buffy just as brightly. “I’ve got it covered. It’s what I do after all.”

Buffy rubbed his arms gently, facing him, completely mesmerized. “And that’s why everyone loves you.”

It wasn’t them. Spike told himself this over and over, placing it on automatic repeat in his head. It wasn’t them, but what if it was true? What if Angel was there helping right now? What if Buffy had fallen back into his arms, forgotten Spike, the rebound vampire, altogether, and was happier for it? Could that be the reason why she hadn't showed up to rescue him? No, he was smart enough to know that if Buffy had only learned about his whereabouts; Angel or not, she’d come for him. Buffy didn’t turn her back on people and they had shared too much for him to believe that she didn’t care; too much had been said and done now. That didn’t mean this painful scenario couldn’t be true in some way. Angel whisking into town unscathed, putting on a display, showcasing how much better he was than his grand-childe; he wasn’t caught, he was big, buff, and for reasons Spike would never understand, beloved. The two of them together again; he knew it wasn’t real, and at least strongly hoped that nothing of the kind was going on out there in the real world, but there it was right in his face; what it would look like if it happened. What it had looked like when it did happen. What if…? He closed his eyes. He had seen enough.

He had expected pain. The first time he woke up in this place he had expected pain. Coming to and finding yourself in such accommodations; strapped down without a stitch of clothing left, no dignity granted, it’d be ridiculous to assume that some form of comfort would then be handed over. He had witnessed the rage Wood carried inside of him. In fact, he was continually on the receiving end of it. Still, it was all physical pain. A little blood and rest, and he’d be good as new. The First, it knew what his Achilles heel was. It knew just how to play him till he was practically going mad. There were only ever small windows of opportunity to escape, and his last attempt hadn’t come remotely close to working. Wood; even worse The First, had all the time in the world to play with him. Well, not all the time in the world; just until she found him…

Buffy...

It didn’t matter what he had been shown. It wasn’t real and with time he had convinced himself of that. It was his vulnerability and the other side was playing with it; that was all there was too it; nothing more, nothing less. She would come for him. He had to hold on to that, there wasn’t much else besides wishful thinking of suddenly breaking the bounds binding his sore limbs. He ached and the blood Wood had finally fed him when he returned had hardly been enough to do much to heal the wounds that were inflicted on him. The burning sensations covering his body had decreased a small amount, and right now that was something he was going to have to be happy about. It wasn’t as though he had too many blessings that could be counted. 

The blood he had been given hadn’t been easy to drink, not with him lying on his stomach, and not with the way Wood had chosen to serve it. Instead of offering it up in one of those nice easy-to-drink-from baggies, the bloke had poured it on the restraint table that Spike’s face was mashed into. The Principal then proceeded to order Spike to lapse up the blood with his tongue while his captor looked on in amusement. He either did that, or he wasn’t fed, and shamefully Spike had made the choice of having his blood no matter how degrading it felt. He needed the strength it would provide him with

“I was a bit tough on you before.” 

The words Spike heard surprised him. He lifted his head up, trying his best to see the expression on Wood’s face, but as Wood was positioned down by his legs, he was unable to see much past the man’s stomach. He laid his head back down waiting for the rest of whatever speech was about to be given.

“You have to understand things from my position. I run a school. I wouldn’t say it’s a tight ship. I think it’s important that student’s be heard, but in the end what I say goes. “  
“  
So what are you sayin’? That your new form of torture is talkin’ me to death?” Spike made another attempt of looking back. He couldn’t see Wood, but The Principal could definitely see the cocky smile on his face.  
Wood smiled back at him, his voice low. “Right,” He looked down at the ground, placing his hand on the edge of the table his victim was strapped to. “The truth is Spike I’m not a bad guy. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life.”

Spike snorted.

Wood’s eyes shot up. “I said anyone. You’re not an anyone Spike. You don’t qualify for the same treatment that I give everyone else. The truth is I don’t usually take vampires back to my lair and punish them. Do they deserve it? I’m sure each and every one of them has killed someone’s mother, or father; a loved one who they can never get back. Do you understand the gravity of the things that you’ve done?” He shook his head looking down once more. “Of course you haven’t. I don’t care what’s been said about you; this soul business.”

“You’ve already made that pretty clear mate. You made that pretty clear already with your hot plate adventures.” Spike didn’t say anything more. He didn’t bother trying to defend himself or what he was feeling; it was a waste of breath, even if he didn’t really need any. 

“This is exactly my point. I believe everyone should be heard, but you’ve been heard. You’ve been heard and you’re not even a person.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t exactly call this bein’ heard, mate.” 

“Believe me, I hear you. I hear you so much that I’ve decided to do something about the things I’ve heard.”

Spike tried to keep his tone of voice calm, but with the position he was in, he couldn’t help but feel the anticipation of what was to come, “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“This would have flowed much more smoothly had you been able to refrain from interrupting me.” He gave Spike a pointed look that he couldn’t really see, but one he could definitely feel. “As I mentioned earlier, I was a bit tough on you before. I felt like I was being very hard on you. Then you opened your mouth. It’s that mouth of yours; it never ceases to dig you into a deeper and deeper hole, because now I realize that where I’ve been tough on you, I simply haven’t been tough enough.”

Wood let his left hand run along Spike’s smooth back. He touched him gently, his hand skating over such smooth skin. 

Spike bit his bottom lip, but didn’t flinch. He knew there would be more to it than having his back felt up. He lay still; a bored expression hung over his face. What else was he going to do? Fight back when he knew there would be no point, and then he’d please the rotten bastard by giving him what he wanted. Wood wanted it to hurt. He wanted his captive to be scared and to beg. Spike would never give him the satisfaction, besides a cut to the back was hardly the worst thing he had endured.

Then quickly with his right hand, he slit his back with the scalpel he had been holding out of sight, letting a chunk of skin drop down the floor. Another quick cut, and another, and yet another; the motions were quick, but sharp. It stung, but he knew this was something he could more than handle. He was the grand-childe of Angelus after all; now he knew how to torture!

He was fully prepared to take more; almost relieved even by the way Wood had decided to take care of him, until his motions changed. This time when he placed the scalpel down, he moved his hand along slowly. The skin rose off his body in one long strip from his shoulder all the way down to his hip. He sucked a breath of air in, his good hand clenched into a fist. He felt his teeth sink into his lip, but he hardly noticed the pain of that, and he longed for his body to do him a favor and go into shock; being dead he didn’t know if that was possible, but he’d dream of it nonetheless. 

The scalpel lifted again, landing down right next the wound and the process repeated. The torture instrument slid along, digging deeper than the last cut made; Wood’s hand moved easily, the cut went gracefully, and yet the sensation made his stomach turn. The combination of such slow tearing pain, on top of it being done so tediously, while forced to lay still; not a muscle able to be moved, it was enough to make him want to holler out. He didn’t; wouldn’t, he already continued to disappoint himself from taking blood from the hand that hurt him, that was enough weakness for him to hold.

Pain-staking slow, the scalpel landed once more towards the middle of his back; scraping out another chunk. Spike’s nostrils flared, his stomach yelling at him, and he found his mouth watering as his blood seeped down his sides and underneath him. It was sticky and it seemed like such a waste of perfectly good fluid. Another stab to his flesh, on his lower back now, and Spike resorted to shutting his eyes tightly; it burned; so much of his back was on fire now. He had heard of this one form of torture; even tried it out on a victim years ago, “Death of a thousand cuts”; small incisions made quickly over and over again. It had looked like an uncomfortable way to go, but he didn’t know himself. He knew better now, though Wood’s take on it was a bit different. These weren’t cuts. He was being flayed. Most victims got to die from being flayed, and with each cut that Wood made into his back, he felt a scream rise into his throat, but somehow he was always able to bite it back. He just kept breathing hard instead. Deep, rhythmic, breathing, that caught in his throat every time the pain reached a high point, and was let out at every ebb. He wondered what his back looked like and at the same time he didn’t want to know. He could take grotesque sights, he had caused many of them, but this was his own body. The image in his head could possibly be worse than reality, but still he hoped the blood that he was given here, was enough to close these wounds; that way he’d never have to find out.

There was no comfortable position. His front side ached just like his back and he found himself wanting to yank the hurt off his abused flesh. How he’d go about doing that he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter anyway, he was still trapped. The walls felt like they were closing in on him. He needed to breathe. He didn’t want to forget how to do that. He needed to breathe. He just needed to breathe and he’d be okay. He let the air go in and out, in and out, and pretty soon all of this would be over. The flaying seemed to be done now, he was being fed. He gulped it up with great relief, having been worried that he had lost too much blood during this exercise to get by any longer. But no, he would survive this one too. With each passing second it was a second closer to freedom. He was sure of this…  
A sharp pain in his side and suddenly his whole body slumped against the table. He was out cold.  
Wood smiled down at the sleeping vampire, a tranquilizer in one hand, the dripping scalpel in the other. Perhaps Spike had learned a thing or two about manners now.

***************************************************

Spike looked up at Buffy’s gaze; seriousness was written on her face. She didn’t speak, but merely studied him in silence. The pain caused from the prior abuse took hold of his thoughts. The cool sensation the table brought his back as it continually pressed up against his wound, among the other cruel inflictions that had been brought down on him, clouded his reality. In actuality, he knew this couldn’t be her. She wasn’t one to let victims stew, no matter what her opinion of them was, she always helped. Still, he could feel the excitement rising in his stomach. The thought of it really being her, the “what if” playing in his mind, he wanted it to be true. He longed for this nightmare to be over, so he could be back in The Slayer’s basement again, listening to the rowdiness of the girls as they fought over breakfast in the morning. The pain was too intense for his mind to be rational anymore. He should have told It to bugger off and go spook someone else. He never did that. He waited for It to speak as though Buffy had come, he willed the silence away, and was prepared to hold on to ever last syllable that was spoken. He needed to pretend. He needed to believe in the devil wearing sheep’s clothing. 

Finally, she spoke up, her voice; however, harsh. Her eyes rolled immediately as she started in on what needed to be said. “You were once this great warrior that I could count on. I didn’t always want it, but I utilized it. I grew to care for you. All the changes that we’ve both been through, it put us on the same page.” She bit her bottom lip and sighed. “You aren’t that same warrior anymore Spike. Let’s face it; you’re a far cry from it now.” She straightened her shoulders a bit in mocked confidence, a pained expression still evident on her face. “Still, I am a force of good, and despite this pathetic level you’ve sunk down to, it’s my job to protect those in need.”

Now raising his head, Spike gave her a questioning look. Would he get freedom? Would she bust him out? Her words were not lost on him, but he couldn’t let them scathe his heart right now. He could always prove her wrong later. He’d show her what a real fighter looked like when he was ripping his way into Wood’s jugular. First, he needed to be free.

Catching the look of hope on his face, Buffy sighed. “I’m not here to spring you if that’s what you think?”

Spike’s face fell, he looked at her questioningly, but before he had the chance to object, words continued to flow out of her.

“I’m doing you a favor right now by simply giving you my presence. And what? Now you want more? Please. You’re lucky enough that you’re getting this. I’m a good person and out of the kindness of my heart I choose to come here and see you now.” She shook her head. 

Spike’s voice felt small when he spoke, the vulnerability of his position had started to show, though he knew now was not the time, when signs of weakness were clearly what this Buffy’s issue with him was. He tried to sound confident, but instead he came off rather whiny. “You said you protected those in need.” 

“See that, right there! You need protection. You’re the protected. You never used to be that way and hey, even if you were, you wouldn’t have admitted it.” She nodded. “But still, you’re not wrong. I did say that and I do mean it. I protect those in need, but I also know a lost cause when I see one. The slayer can do her best, but she can’t save them all. You’re lost to me. I visit you now out of respect for the memories that we share, nothing more.” 

“Buffy…” Spike started his plea, but was promptly being cut off.

“Hey, don’t act as though this isn’t hard on me! This isn’t easy. You were something to me, but that was back when you were someone…You’ve gotten weak, Spike. Somewhere along the way you’ve weakened. I need strength. I need a fighter. I need…” Her voice trailed off as a sly smile fell over her face. “…a champion.”

Abruptly, a large hand clasped down on Buffy’s shoulder. Chillingly, Spike recognized it, and the voice that came with it. “I must have missed that chapter in history.” 

Buffy turned towards Angel and giggled. “You are so bad.”

Angel pulled Buffy into a loving embrace, playfully nipping at her neck. “Only whenever I’m with you.”

Buffy’s laugher rang through the room as Angel continued to playfully devour her. The scene playing out before him was enough to take Spike’s mind off all physical pain that he had currently been experiencing. That was a drop in the bucket compared to what it was he was forced to look at, to listen to, and he swore that he could even taste the bitterness of it in his mouth. None of Wood’s treatment so far had managed to make him sick, perhaps it was because he was hardly being given enough blood for it, but what he was witnessing right now, that could be enough to do it.

Angel pulled Buffy into a passionate kiss; it wasn’t long before he opened his eyes, staring at Spike while he played out one of his worst fears right in front of him. He watched as Spike choked back tears; undoubtedly wanting to hide such an episode from Buffy. It was then that her lips fell off his, moving down towards his neck hungrily, giving her boyfriend room to speak. “You just don’t get it now, do you? Well, you’re a little dim. So let me explain how things are. Nothing is yours Spike. Not even her.” A happy smile fell over his face, waiting to see the reaction he could coax out of his grand-childe. 

Tears just had be shed at this point; there was no halting them behind his eyes, keeping the anguish locked inside his throat. Words flew out of his mouth, that resurfaced as he had once spoken them a century before, anger filling his face, but unable to stop the crying. 

“You’re wrong! We’re forever. Buffy and me.” An empty echo, that he only hoped sounded a tad more credible that it felt.

An amused smile formed over Angel’s face, “Ah, still the poet, now aren’t we, Spikey? Tell you what Spike…if you want her…come and take her.”

Struggling madly against the bonds, it got him nowhere, though Spike was determined to throw himself on top of Angel, and let his fangs tear him to shreds. He was like a rabid animal in this moment; locked in place for the good of those passing by, he wasn’t safe to pet anymore. He’d have to be put down. The only thing this fiery response got him was shooting pain up and down his entire body from the already sore wounds his body was sporting. Weakness caused from his recent ordeal took over, and Spike finally stilled his failing efforts. At full vampire strength, he hadn’t been unable to break these bonds, but now broken down and torn to shreds, there was no hope for escape.

Keeping his eyes shut tight for the umpteenth time was the only way away from the image before him. He needed to rid himself of what was meant to be a beautiful lie, but had quickly turned sour. Just because it was going on, that didn’t mean Spike had to look at it. According to this, he had only ever been a place holder in Buffy’s life. He was there because Angel wasn’t. He was a vampire just like Angel, and though they had a very different build, resembling each other in no particular way whatsoever, Buffy had taken what she could get. Now she had what she wanted all along; her one and only love. Leaving him to waste away here. His heart broke with the impression of how little he had truly meant to everyone, especially her.

Suddenly, a softer and kinder voice could be heard. Spike didn’t need his eyes opened to know who it was. However, once hearing her voice, snapping his eyes open was an immediate reaction. A blonde lady stood over him, hair tied up in a bun, warmth lighting up her face. His mother’s hand lay over his face, as though she were about to stroke it lovingly, “William…” She stared down at her child, warmth washing over him, causing him to feel protected; safe, “How’s my beautiful baby holding up?”

Tears were pricking the back of his eyes once more, but it had always been safe to cry in front of his dear mum. She had encouraged the outlet of emotions, and had always provided great comfort when he was down, or going through a rough patch in his young life. Now, more than ever, Spike wanted to feel his mother’s touch, for her to wrap such loving arms around him. Yet, he knew that this couldn’t be possible. He knew that her arms could not embrace him; her soft comforting hugs could not be given ever again. She was gone. She had been for so long, and yet here she stood before him. The one woman in this world that would always care for him unconditionally, the one woman who would always permanently be in his heart went against the impossible, and graced him with her presence once again. Yet, she was dead. 

He knew it to be the truth. It was something that he had never fully wanted to accept, even as a human the inevitable was a fact that he needed to avoid. The loss of his mother meant the loss of everything, and he couldn’t have that. He carried it with him even now, the harsh memory of her passing; it was unable to extract from his mind. So he knew, oh he knew, that she wasn’t here! But… there was so much pain. So much hurt after what he had just gone through of physical and emotional suffering that was just completely and utterly taxing. He needed something! He needed someone! He needed his mother…

And he didn’t care.

He didn’t care that she was gone. The reality of the situation didn’t matter. What was real and what was most likely an illusion was irrelevant now. She was here. She was a vision, an angel, but also a trick. He chose not to think about that one. He chose to play along, because a production was the only thing that he had left now. For the first time in all of this, something was speaking to him kindly, even though it couldn’t be real, that something was still his mother to him.

“There there William. That’s it. Let it out. Let it all out Baby.” She reached her hand out soothingly, and just as she were about to ruffle her boy’s hair, she quickly snatched it back. His mother started to walk away, but quickly spun around eyeing her son with a stern look mixed with the softness she always held. “Have you been misbehaving William?” Her tone was much like the one she used when he had acted up as a little boy. 

Spike tilted his head slightly disappointed, “Mum…I’m good now…” 

“You killed all those people. How could you?” Blood started to flow down his mother’s neck, while she stared at him with accusing dismay on her face, “How could you kill me?”

Spike began to breathe heavily at the sight; he knew full well it was time to explain himself. He had always wanted to explain his actions to her. In a way, she was right here now. He could finally have the conversation with her that he had needed to have for over one hundred years. The conversation with the real her, not the demon version. He knew she would be upset with him, what with the taking her life, that probably made it the understatement of the year. But she had loved him. Perhaps he could get her to understand. She was his mother after all. He needed her now, so much. He needed her to soothe the pain. They would talk. They could make things right!

“I wanted to save you…Mum…I wanted…”

Spike watched as his mother’s body started to decay before his very eyes, and his mouth opened wanting to holler through this dreadful happenstance, forcing himself to fight the urge off. 

“William…I loved you…”

He shut his eyes tightly once again as he yelled out, “No, that’s not…not…not how I meant it to happen!”

Silence overtook the room, but Spike couldn’t open his eyes just yet; not wanting to see the horrors that had been done to his mother. He let a little more time pass, waiting to see if the quiet would lift, but when it hadn’t, he slowly lifted his eyelids, looking out ever so slightly, but seeing nothing. Opening his eyes all the way, he scanned the lab, noticing that what had taken his mother’s form had left. His body shuddered, the image from only seconds before still fresh in his mind, he feared it always would be. He decided to try a trick he had learned for panic, taking his mind off it, focusing on various objects in the room. He looked over the room, trying to replace the fear with ordinary thoughts, but as he turned his head to the left, checking out what was there, out of nowhere a vampire appeared over him, growling loudly. It wasn’t just any ordinary vampire though…

Startled, Spike banged his head back hard against the table; reacting to the surprise that he had found on that side of the room. His shaking sped up; looking as though a seizure had its grasp on him; his mother, looming over him, now the monster that he was responsible for turning her into. 

“Poor lost William, can’t live without his Mummy. No wonder the woman that you’re so taken with is blonde. Petite like Mummy was too. You’re always obsessing over the next woman in your life. Is that why? You miss your mum? Desperately trying to seek out the love of another woman, so we can finally be back together again?”

Quickly flipping his head over towards the right; his body quivering relentlessly, he didn’t want to hear anymore. It was hard to focus through the pain now, and for the first time since he had been here, that came as a welcomed fact. 

“Is that why lover?” Buffy calmly strode over back into Spike’s view. “Is that why I’m the best you’ve ever had? I’m the closest thing to your mother. The human kind of course. Not the vampire you made her. And you did do that, you know. You made her a demon. A sweet caring lady, who loved you more than herself. You repaid her with death. A ticket straight to hell. And she is burning now. For all of eternity. For you. Because of you. You never could get your mother to stay. You never could get anyone to stay….”

“You’re not her!” Spike finally brought himself to admit with a scream. “You’re not…you’re not my mother! You’re not Buffy! You’re not any of them!” Tears continued to fill his eyes as he stared at the entity that dared to take the form of the people nearest and dearest in his unlife. “I know you’re not. They wouldn’t…” 

“I wouldn’t what?” The First spoke not changing its disguise. “Speak to you in such a way? Is that what you really believe?”

“You’re not them.” Spike stated stubbornly. “I know you’re not!

An ominous grin appeared on “Buffy’s” face. “No, I’m not.” The First stated verifying his suspicions. “But it doesn’t make what I’m saying any less true…”

With that It snickered in its victory, disappearing, and leaving Spike to sob.

 

**********************************************************************************

Walking the cold street in the wee hours of the morning, Buffy folded her arms over herself trying to keep warm. Given the time of year, the temperature should have been fairly comfortable, but her body couldn’t recognize this fact. Things in the vineyard had not gone the way that she had planned. The harsh truth was, she had lost the battle. It repeated in her head over and over again. She had lost to evil. She had said it out loud to herself countless times, and the sound of it was bitter on her tongue. Caleb had been too strong for her; much stronger than any one of them could have anticipated. The strength he had reminded of her Glory in a lot of ways; the Hellbitch, and Buffy need a special orb to really be able to touch her long enough to do any damage at all. She doubted that she was going to get lucky enough to find a orb which repelled Caleb. She had lost. Lost! She couldn’t get over the damage which had been going down and now she was frozen, lonely, and in fear. It hadn’t been enough power. The one thing she had been feeling became a reality. Lives had been lost and damaged before the command to retreat had been given. Xander was now blind in one eye; having lost it in the battle, caught by Caleb, and that was only one of his injuries. She had seen it happening from afar. Caleb’s thumb in his eyes, his gloating, as he carelessly tossed her friend to the ground, and had squashed him like a bug; ribs had been cracked, and the doctors said he had a crushed lung. It never should have happened. Nothing that had gone down should have. It had been time to test the girls in a real fight; she knew this, but it didn’t ease the guilt. Being a slayer didn’t make her cold hearted as she had once believed; she was full of love, and because of that, the loss was hard to swallow. Not enough power; her mind raced back to that. She knew that one of her most powerful warriors hadn’t been present and accounted for; possibly causing the causalities to be much higher than they originally would have been. Terror rose inside of her again with that realization. What had happened to Spike?

Coming to the door of her home, Buffy hadn’t realized she had walked in this direction. It must have been out of habit that she had taken all the right turns. As she pushed the door open, taking a step inside, she froze before coming in all the way. She caught the back of Spike as he casually walked into the kitchen. Forgetting to shut the door behind her, she stormed down the hallway unsure of whether she was angry or concerned. He looked fine to her, but she had only seen the back of him. She stood in the hallway for a moment getting a grip on her emotions. She’d get her answers, but Spike was her friend. Someone who stood up and by her countless times, he could be trusted. She wanted answers. She would get answers. She would be getting them from a friend. Calmer now, she walked into the kitchen, and folded her arms; she was still very emotional, having been given such a scare by him. She watched as Spike turned, taking notice of her, lifting his eyebrows in a questioning manner, waiting for her to speak her piece.

“Where were you?” She gestured behind herself in reference to the battle, “Are you hurt? What happened?” Her voice was one of demand. 

“Got jumped by a couple bringers in the Forest.” Spike simply responded. 

Buffy’s shoulders dropped down, letting the tension leave them. Bringers had jumped him, a perfectly reasonable explanation, except that it wasn’t. She had gone through this with Xander earlier. 

Poor Xander. 

She needed to get her mind back on track right now. She’d help Xander out when he came home. Right now, things with Spike were not adding up. Why would they bring the rest of them to Caleb, but jump Spike? How could he have been grabbed without the others noticing, herself included? Thinking on that fact further, if he did manage to get away from them uninjured, why would he just turn around and go home, leaving everyone else in the vineyard to fight without his help? The tension in her shoulders returned, deciding to question him further. “When did this happen? What time? Or what were our whereabouts when this went down?”

Buffy watched a flicker of hesitation fall over Spike’s features before he provided her with an answer. “Was dark Buffy, if you don’t remember. All looked the same to me. More focused on the fact that I was ‘bout to be killed. Defendin’ myself when no one else offered to help.” Now, irritation filled the blonde vampire’s features.

A silent attack? It didn’t make sense at all. And all the more, how could he possibly get disoriented in the dark, being the nocturnal creature that he was? She felt her hands form fists angrily. He was lying to her. He had had some strong reason to not take part in the battle. She took a step forward, getting in his personal space. She hadn’t done that a lot lately. In fact, she hadn’t touched him at all… Studying Spike’s eyes for a moment, the features on his face were flawless; just as they always were in times like these. She took a step back, arms still crossed, anger now showing on her face. Through gritted teeth Buffy managed to get out the following question. “Where is Spike?”

She watched as Spike dared to look at her with concern. “I‘m right here, Buffy. Looks to me like whatever I missed down there with Preacher Boy really got to you. Might wanna rest or somethin’.”

Buffy shot out an angry fist, and punched him straight in the nose. And, as expected, her hand went straight through him.

A Spike grin showed up on the First’s face, leaving a few anticipating moments to shine before It spoke. “I guess I really do have something of yours.”

Left there alone, watching The First disappear without further information; Buffy stood feeling the color rush out of her face. Feeling sick, she slowly sank to the floor. Tonight her life had crumbled down around her. 

************************************************************************

His line of vision had become corrupted. Unless his eyes remained shut tightly, there was no way to avoid the sting it gave his heart. At some moments Spike swore he could feel it bleeding. Shutting his eyes off to the sight of Angel and Buffy pawing each other wasn’t the complete answer though, because even when he did so, the sound still traveled to his ears. The smacking of their lips together was one thing, and his heightened hearing could pick up on other things and places their hands were heading for.

Opening his eyes, this time he found his mother standing in front of him once again. He could still make out Angel and Buffy over her shoulder, but Spike could force focus back on his mother; though that wasn’t much better. Perhaps thinking about the extreme pain he was in would be the winning option. Sadly, Spike thought it was; though whether he was thinking about Buffy and Angel or his mother, the pain had become more and more impossible to forget with each minute it passed by untreated. 

“Just relax William. You’re being punished, but you’re only making it worse on yourself.” Turning away from Spike, too ashamed to look at him, she carried on. “I was never one for tough love, but I guess something changed me.” Abruptly, his mother looked back at him over her shoulder; fangs popped out, the bumps now fully formed; she glared down at Spike with thirst. 

Spike shut his eyes tightly for what must have been the thousandth time; zoning out and letting himself get fully engulfed by the pain he was in, use his physical agony as a distraction. It was the easiest distraction at hand and the only shot had at forgetting what was going on around him; what he had done. 

***********************************************************************

Waiting in anticipation, everyone gathered in the living room. Tension filled the air; most people expecting this meeting to be called due to their previous defeat or the earlier nights activities. Faith had taken the uninjured girls out, deciding it would be a good time for them to blow off steam; much to Buffy’s dismay. Considering the hit they had taken at the vineyard, plus learning on top of all their stress that Spike was among the missing, the last thing she thought any of them had time for was lounging about. In fairness, no one knew about Spike just yet. People had only started coming back from the hospital earlier that day; it was time for them to find out now, and perhaps they’d understand a bit better the urgency of the situation. The First had been able to take someone from them, right under their noses. That should never have been allowed to happen. They knew by now this thing could take a dead being’s form. It was an old trick It kept using, and each time like dumb dogs, they kept falling for it. Not to mention the humiliating defeat they had met going up against Its right hand man. Her Warriors needed to be just that now; warriors! Action had to be taken, and Buffy knew exactly what needed to be done. 

Staring into the serious faces, Buff let her folded arms drop down, beginning the meeting and cutting to the chase. “Spike isn’t who he says he is.”

“Bloody right he isn’t.” Giles mumbled to himself, knowing full well that Buffy had been able to hear him.

After shooting him a dirty look, Buffy carried on, not taking her gaze off Giles; wanting to see his reaction over what she was about to say. “The First kidnapped him.” After seeing Giles lift his head up in surprise, her focus was switched on to a surprised Willow, who spoke next.

“That’s why he didn’t show up at the vineyard.” She pointed excitedly at nothing in particular, “The fighting would have blown Its cover! Hello. Can’t touch anything; hard to hide that in a little hand to hand combat.” 

Then a quiet almost timid voice spoke up. “Plus, it wouldn’t be like him to run out on you,” There was a hesitant pause. “right? ” The voice belonged to Dawn Summers. “He never has in the past when he was needed for a fight. He’s gone out of his way for us when it never benefited him, so it shouldn’t be surprising to any of us that he didn’t run out. Besides…he’s good now.” Dawn use to have quite a liking for the bleach blonde vampire; that was until the attack on her sister had taken place. She had become very protective of Buffy since then, especially when it came to Spike, but deep inside, she still loved him. She had put trust in him as a young kid, and often Spike was the one who wound up listening to her when she felt no one else would. She liked how straight forward and honest he was with her. Never did he try to spare her “little” feelings as everyone had in the past. Spike had talked to her like a grown up, and she had greatly appreciated such treatment. Dawn hadn’t understood completely what it meant for him to be lacking a soul, and the crush she had on him had been written all over her face. Dawn had seen it as the same thing that Buffy used to do with Angel, the only problem was; Spike was in love with the wrong sister. Dawn had never been too crushed by it, still enjoying his company. However, once he had crossed that line with her sister, all bets were off. Buffy meant more to her than some stupid crush. In fact, nothing meant more to her than that of her own sister. Still, Spike had taken off after that; gotten a soul. And these days, Buffy was starting to think that he had redeemed himself, or was on the road to doing it anyway. Dawn hated to admit it, but sometimes she missed him; the friendship that she had once had with him, and that had been when he was evil. So, if he had a soul now, that could only make their friendship stronger; more real? Dawn argued with herself about this a lot. She didn’t think it was right for her to have these thoughts and feelings, not after what he had done. So while she was pushing Spike away, or avoiding him, Buffy had been getting closer to him. Now Buffy seemed to be really worried about Spike; it was written all over her face. So maybe; perhaps that meant it was okay for her to be worried about him too? 

Buffy gave Dawn a confirming nod unaware of her sister’s inner struggle, and carried on, trying to keep a strong front up; despite the sick feeling this whole situation had given her. “So Caleb claimed he had something of mine. Now we know what that something is.” 

“How long do you think he’s been gone?” Giles inquired.

Buffy figured his inquiry more had to do with how long the First had been spying on them, than it actually was over Spike being missing himself. “I don’t know.” It was her honest answer, though not one that anyone was going to like. She could only hope that it hadn’t been too long. He had been badly wounded the last time the First had its non-corporeal hands on him. She didn’t want to think about what It could be having done to him now; trying not to entertain the thought that the First had simply done Spike in altogether. 

“So what do we do about it?” Wood stood leaning up against the doorway, his arms over his chest, looking at each of the other meeting participants. 

Buffy scanned the whole room; sharing contact with each and every person before going on, as this would affect all of them. “The First has one of us; one of my own. It’s going to learn really quickly what a mistake that was! But before we get to that; what we do is all the more important. No one is ever left behind! We go back for Spike. We go back to the vineyard.”


	4. Mutiny

Buffy had expected there to be a disagreement. Considering the humiliating defeat everyone had recently experienced at the exact location she was suggesting they’d return to, she would have been more concerned had they nonchalantly agreed with her on these latest plans. But she wasn’t quite prepared for just how strongly everyone in the room wound up feeling on the matter.

There was shouting. There were judgmental and angry glares, snide remarks, and Giles in the background going off about how it was “madness”. Buffy took in a deep breath; she tried to calm herself down.

You’re in charge here Buffy. You have to lead. So do that. Lead!

“Will you just listen to me?” Buffy’s voice had come out more exasperated than she had intended it to. She needed to keep her emotions in check. She needed to be the rock of her army; something that couldn’t be broken down, no matter how much she felt like breaking right then and there. Innocent girls were dead now, her best friend was stuck in the hospital, and Spike; who she had deeper feelings for than she cared to admit at times, was God only knew where. Now here she was, in another battle; another attack, only this time it was coming from her own team. War was never easy. It was never pretty and everyone here was scared. They were exhausted and they all wanted to rest. Buffy knew that, and when all was said and done she could probably sleep for a week, but she knew that they needed to press on. This was no time to let fear get in the way. They needed to prove to The First that they were a force to be reckoned with, and that could only be done if they bounced back stronger than ever before, “Spike is down there right now. Caleb is guarding the vineyard. The bad guys go where the power is. The First has viewed Spike as a threat already. This we know. It was why he had a trigger put in his head to begin with. It’s been up to something with Spike from the beginning. It has bigger plans for him. It has taken him now. Where else would they put him? He was heavily guarded before and it seems that security has tightened even more since then. They’re protecting their power source. I say it’s time we take their power away from them. I say we take back what’s ours.”

Faith looked at Buffy as if she had grown another head; anger was creeping into her voice, hanging below the surface, but never fully coming up. “Or on an alternative; how about we don’t? We’ve got no proof of this B, and you shouldn’t be expecting any one of us to go back in there on this neat little theory of yours.”

Buffy swallowed, her eyes meeting everyone in the room. “I know it’s a lot to ask…”

Wood, who was standing behind Faith, looked up. He was aware of another angle to the problem than the one they were currently debating. He, as the only one in the room, was perfectly well aware that Spike was indeed not trapped in the Vineyard, and that an expedition there to rescue him thus would be a waste of lives in battle. He had to find a way to prevent that! He was not about to let any of these innocent girls die unnecessarily. But how was he gonna warn them? "Buffy, you really shouldn't do this. I know this rescue is gonna come up empty, because I abducted Spike and thus know that he's not there?” No, don't think that's such a good idea. This line of thought made him acutely aware of another problem that he had created for himself, by not only listening to what The First had to say, but teaming up with it. He didn’t like to look at it that way, he was still against its overall plan in every way, but in regards to Spike, there was no denying that he was working with the enemy. It wasn’t to betray and hurt everyone else; he just wanted his mother’s killer to pay. He had a right to obtain justice for her murder. But doing so, he had made the Ultimate Evil acutely aware of his existence. Now that their partnership were drawing to a close, and the final showdown was coming, It would have a number of extra weapons with which to take him down. Just tell Buffy thie story of what he had done, and *gulp* It could get her to do It’s dirty work for It, and get a fair bit of chaos and division within the gang in on the bargain. He shuddered to think of it,

They needed to destroy The First, it’d be the best of both worlds in actuality, because he’d have gotten his revenge, and the world would be saved. He wouldn’t have to worry about any future consequences this might bring. But preferably not with this Slayer in charge, it was way too dangerous for him. What the gang needed, was a change of head slayer.

“It is a lot to ask” he concurred. “And you’ve asked a lot already. Now I think it’s only fair for us to hear Faith out instead, and get some fresh slayer eyes on this.”

Faith and Buffy’s eyes met, they had kept the scathing looks and remarks away, but it was clear that the great start that they had shared earlier had now crashed and burned. Faith continued. “Maybe this thing goes your way. Maybe it doesn’t. These are odds that I don’t think you should be playing at.”

“Did you come here to fight?” Buffy shot back.

“We’re fighters, all of us, but you’ve got to give me something to fight. Something real…not.”

“Windmills”

Buffy’s jaw almost hit the ground when she heard the word that Giles had muttered. She knew that he and Spike had their issues. Giles tried to have him killed, so yeah, they were pretty big issues, but for him to side with Faith! She was at a loss for words. “He’s down there!” She spoke through clenched teeth. She couldn’t believe Giles was letting his own vampire prejudice get in the way of his judgment. After all these years working together and this was the trust she was getting in return.

“Maybe,” Giles looked at her matter of factly. “but it’s a hell of a lot to ask.”

“Too much” Wood piped in.

This was getting out of hand. Who were these people? Buffy stared into the faces of everyone, stunned. “I can’t believe this. This is a man’s life we’re talking about!”

Sitting on the couch, one of the Potential’s; Rona, finally used her voice. “I am sick of your deal with this Spike guy! This isn’t about him. He’s not why all of us can’t get on the same page with you.”

Buffy folded her arms. “Okay. Then what’s the reason?”

“You’re being reckless!”

“What?” Buffy was in disbelief.

“Man, I don’t even know you and I can tell! You’re obsessed with beating Caleb, or anybody who’s got ties with The First, if not The First itself, you’re willing to jump into any plan without thinking.”

Buffy was finding it hard to keep the glare off her face, but the same sentiment was in her voice. She was being completely ganged up on when someone near and dear to her was in need of their help, and this it seemed wasn’t registering with them. It took all her self-control not to shake everyone. Still, she continued to force herself to be as calm as she realistically could be. “That’s not what I’m doing. The last time The First got Its hands on Spike, it tortured him. Mercilessly.” She turned addressing everyone in the room once more. “Are you all trying to tell me that you’re perfectly okay with that scenario?”

Kennedy stormed over to Buffy, the eagerness to fight running throughout her body. “That’s not what we’re saying, but look around! People are dying! By going back there, you may save him. You might not. What I do know is you’re going to have a much larger body count on your hands! One soul for how many Buffy? How many of us is he worth?”

Willow took a hesitant step forward when she saw how close Kennedy had gotten in Buffy’s face. As ready as Kennedy was to become a slayer, she was still no match for the actual slayer. Gently, she reached out to take Kennedy’s arm. “Kennedy…”

Kennedy spun around towards Willow, her anger still raging. “Why are you always standing up for her?”

Willow’s face and voice matched; distraught was pouring out of both. “I’m not…” She looked over at Buffy, trying to be reasonable and fair. “You’re close to this Buffy. You’re close to him and I’m not being judgy. I’m just…I’m worried about your judgment.”

Buffy stood up straighter, clearing her throat, her body suggesting more confidence than her face held, as she tried not to let Willow’s words hit her heart. “I wish this could be a democracy, I really do, but democracies don’t win battles. You need someone to be reckless sometimes and make the hard decisions. To lead.”

Arms folded, Anya spoke with disgust. “And it’s automatically you. God, you really do think you’re better than us. But we don’t know if you’re actually better. You came into the world with certain advantages, sure, but you didn’t earn it. You didn’t work for it. You’ve never had someone come up to you and say you deserve these things more than anyone else. They were just handed to you. So that doesn’t make you better than us, it makes you luckier than us.”

Anya’s words were something Buffy did not have time for right now. She had already been psychoanalyzed by a vampire once this year; she didn’t need to have it happen again by a former demon. It started to make her wonder why it was evil creatures seemed to be so interested in getting inside her head; perhaps it was a subconscious tactic of theirs so they would know how to take her down, even if they weren’t currently a part of the dark side. Even so, she couldn’t address this. There was simply no time for it. “Look I’m willing to talk strategy on how to break this down, but this is the plan! We have to be together on this, or we will fail again!”

Aggravated, Giles chimed in again. “We are clearly demonstrating that we are not together on this! Look Buffy, I can understand your point. I do. At the same time we cannot afford any more loss; not without proof. If you can prove that Spike is in fact down there…than a rescue could be in order, if only to take the power that he possesses away from them.” He didn’t know how to get through to his former Slayer. This was exactly what he had been worried about; that vampire taking control of her once more. She was unable to do her work. She was unable to think about those that were actually among the living. The whole human race was at risk, and here she stood fighting for something that should have died over a century ago. However, he wasn’t too wrapped up in his unease of their relationship to see that if she was right about him serving as some sort of power source for The First, then yes they needed to get him out of there, and once again it would only prove what he had come to realize before; Spike needed to be eliminated. He was too much of a risk, even with the trigger deactivated it seemed. Buffy was too wrapped up in her emotions to look at any of this with a logical eye.

“And what if there’s no time for that.” There was a challenging tone in Buffy’s voice.

“What if he doesn’t have time for that?” Donna quietly amended from the coffee table she was sitting on.

“Exactly” Buffy nodded her head.

Dawn looked up at her sister with an unreadable expression on her face. “Exactly…and Buffy, that’s the problem. You’re doing this to save him, not us. I’m worried about Spike too but, there’s more at stake here.”

Picking up on the point Dawn was driving forwards, Faith decided to save her the trouble “You’re not worried about them activating him or whatever, before we get there. You’re worried about coming across dust.”

“I’ve gotten us this far.” Buffy stated factually, it took everything in her to be able to keep her cool.

“And maybe it’s time somebody else took over.” Wood added coldly, seizing on the chance to make this point.

Buffy gave him puzzled look and stated simply, “I’m the slayer.”

“And isn’t Faith the slayer also?” Wood gestured in her direction.

Faith looked up startled by the turn of events. “Woah woah woah, so not what I meant. I’m not in charge chick. I just think B here needs to chill out for a little bit, take a siesta or something, but I’m not the one you want.”

“Maybe we need a vote, to see who wants Faith to have a turn in charge.” Kennedy stated simply.

“No.” Buffy stared at her in disbelief.

“No, what?” Attitude filled Kennedy’s voice.

Buffy’s voice became a mock sort of cheery, as she moved across the room, turning to catch everyone’s gaze. “We can’t have a vote until I’ve had a chance to pal around, get everyone drunk. You see I didn’t realize that this was a popularity contest. I should have a chance to bake them cookies or braid their hair or…”

Faith cut her off with a factual tone. “Learn their names.”

Buffy faced Faith, her eyes looking as though death rays might beam out of them. “You’re just loving this, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea what I’m feeling.”

Buffy’s attack wasn’t about to stop there. “Come in here, take everything that I have. I mean, you did it before. Did you tell them that?” Did you tell them how you use to kill people for fun?” She glanced over at all the potentials in the room. “Hey, do you guys think that’s nifty?”

Exasperated Giles spoke up. “Buffy that’s enough!”

Faith continued to try to keep her head, but there was anger swelling, just wanting to break out. “I didn’t come here to take anything away from you, but I’m not going to be your little lapdog either. I came here to beat the other guy, to do right however it works, I don’t know if I can lead, but the question is, can you follow?”

There was silence in the room for a moment; everyone taking in the words of the second Slayer. Wood spoke lowly, breaking that silence. “So we vote.”

Buffy couldn’t believe what she was seeing. This wasn’t anywhere near the disagreement she thought she was going to face. It was out of hand and she had no way of reeling everyone back in. It was as though they had made up their minds about her long ago. “I know I’m right about this. I can’t stay here and watch her lead you into some disaster. And I sure as hell can’t stay here if it means turning my back on someone who needs my help.”

“Well then that works out for everybody involved,” Rona scoffed. “cause what is needed to fight this war is a vampire slayer, not just a vampire savior.”

Dawn glared at her, venom shooting out alongside her words. “Shut your mouth!” She stood up and took a few steps towards her sister, as she tried to keep the tears in her eyes under control. “Buffy, I love you. But you were right; we have to be together on this. You can’t be a part of it. So I need you to leave. I’m sorry. This is my house too.”

Buffy felt her heart drop into her stomach; her own sister, throwing her out. Her memories might have been fake ones, but the facts that she had been filled with were true. Dawn had been young, but she knew what Faith was. All of her friends did. Looking around the room, she saw not one of them stand up and take her side. Xander was in the hospital, so there was no telling what he would do, but even Willow couldn’t find the courage to look her in the eye. It seemed the only person she knew for a fact wouldn’t have let her down, was missing.

Grabbing her coat, she wasted no more time; tears streaming down her face, Buffy made her way out onto the streets.

******************************************************************************  
Alone again. Spike couldn’t say that he was disappointed, but claiming that he was relieved wasn’t exactly the truth either. There were times that he even found it to be worse. He didn’t wish his captor back by any means, but he was left wondering when the torture would resume, and what it would be this time. With Wood there at least he knew, and he wasn’t left coming up with things that were ten times worse than the actual truth. He wasn’t scared of a little pain. That wasn’t the issue here. It was the not knowing. Once again, he was left to his own thoughts and not one of them could be categorized as pleasant anymore.

Still he had to admit, he didn’t hurt as badly lately. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that he was comfortable, but the constant throbbing had died down. Wood didn’t seem to have the time to stick around and hurt him any much more, and seemed to have remembered to feed him when he left more often lately. It wasn’t the portions that he normally would have given himself, but beggars can’t be choosers. He had to roll his eyes at that thought. He wasn’t a beggar. Not once had he begged for blood; though he still held a grudge with himself every time he decided to allow that maniac to feed him. Wood had set the rules and it wasn’t like Spike to follow, but he certainly couldn’t break any of them if he was too weak. It was a topic he struggled with, but it was one that he had already made his decision on. He continued to take the blood. He continued to judge himself for it. It seemed it continued to heal him. Why else would the pain have lessened?

He could still feel the fire in his back from the punishment Wood had inflicted there. It was no surprise to Spike though; he had been laying on it the whole time. Blood did its job well enough, but it could only work with what it was given. His back hadn’t had any time to breathe. He was suffocating it; no air had been able to hit the wounds, so the healing process was certainly slower. Every time he shifted; as little as that could be, it irritated the area. Each tiny movement he made felt like something was digging into his back with razor sharp blades. For once being bound down had come in handy; he could only shift so much.

There was one piece of evidence Spike had come across that let him know the feeling of healing running through his body was not just in his head. He had come across it accidentally. He knew that his wrist was damaged goods, so he made no point of moving it. What was he going to do with it anyway? Still, sometimes it was nice to move what little he could, just for the sake of shifting a piece of his body that wouldn’t shoot daggers into his back afterwards. It was subconscious, but in the silence of Wood’s absence, Spike had found himself needing to fill the room with noise; if only to block out his own detrimental thoughts. His hand suddenly arched, his fingertips were tapping against the table he was trapped to.

Drumming. Drumming. Drumming.

The noise didn’t register.

Drumming.Drumming. Drumming.

Spike had zoned out once again.

Drumming. Drumming. Drumm-

Wait a bleedin’ minute!

His eyes widened, not bothering to lift his hand, because he knew the outcome would be disappointing, but still he stared in wonder. Slowly, he moved his wrist from one side to the other. It felt a little tight, but other than that…

He was healing.

It was perfect. Wood had knocked him down; he wasn’t going to pretend that it hadn’t happen. He had gotten the best of him for the time being, but it didn’t matter who was winning or losing each battle, what mattered was who came out on top in the end. A sly smile spread over Spike’s face. This was a piece of information that he didn’t have to go off gloating about; not yet anyway. There would be time for that. Now, he knew that he wasn’t the most patient bloke. He got bored waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, and truthfully, he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to be able to make his move just yet. Hopefully, things could be figured out before the Principal made his grand entrance again. In the past, when trying to figure out how to break these bonds, even at his full strength it had not been possible. The alternative seemed to be either giving up all together or getting Wood to let him up; both didn’t seem entirely likely. What was that story? It had to do with a mother lifting a bus off her children. Well, right now the bus was on him and he needed to figure out how to lift it off his damn self. This was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. He was getting better. He could get better! Wood could pay for everything that he had put him through.

A warmth overtook him; a tingling feeling that ran throughout his body. Slowly, he began moving his wrist again. He could use these hands to take down his torturer. He could give him a taste of his own medicine. The one little obstacle of figuring out how to get up would be dealt with; the point was he was not broken, he was strong. No one could keep him down. Not Wood. Not the First. No one!

If he hadn’t been so taken aback by the newfound condition of his once sore wrist, Spike would have noticed the feeling of being watched. He would have picked up on a pair of eyes holding a look that was almost strong enough to burn him from where they were. Spike had not noticed, but Wood had noticed him. Wood took note of that smile that had taken over Spike’s features. He hated that smile.

Standing on the other side of the door to the Initiative lab, he glared through the window that was placed on the top half of the door. Self-control was not something that he had a lot of when it came to the vampire, but he had managed to keep himself from marching into the lab and ripping that smile right off of the creature’s face. He should not be healing. Worse than that, he should not be happy. Ever!

Storming down the hallway, Wood made his way from the lab, leaving the vampire blissfully unaware for a few more minutes.

Spike continued to work out the kinks in his wrist. He couldn’t get over how well it was fairing and the grin on his face only increased. Two hands were better than one hand; though when it came to killing, he really didn’t need any. It would just make this all the more fun when he finally was free. It was then that he heard the swing of the door. Quickly, he stopped what he was doing, and laid still, trying to look pathetic, immediately knocking the smile off his face that he had already grown so accustomed to having back.

Wood made his way over to the tray of goodies that he had pulled out long before. Spike tried not to grimace in the memory of the hot plate and the holy water whip that had currently taken up residency there. He could hear something drop with a loud thud against the tray; the other items jumped up a bit from the drop, before crashing back down again. He started up in curiosity at Wood, but the Principal’s face could not be read.

“I trust that you’re feeling better.” Wood’s voice was calm, his eyes fixed on his captive. “I take it you should be grateful, if you were capable of it. I’ve been going real easy on you for the last week. Taken right good care of you”

Spike continued to gaze at him, but not a word passed his lips. He figured that Wood was being condescending. He hadn’t done anything to help him feel better besides give him about a quarter of the blood he needed day to day.

“Or is there still a lot of pain?” Wood questioned him curiously.

Spike wasn’t a fool. He knew to nod his head softly. He knew to play his past injuries up for as long as he could. After all, if he wanted to rip the throat out of this monster, he needed to get the drop on him in order to do so.

“Is that so?” Wood pressed him a bit further.

Spike simply nodded his head once more. Wood had a look of contemplation on in his face that chilled him to the core. He knew that look by now. He had been trapped in this place long enough to be able to recognize that look from a mile away. Good things did not result from that look.

“You know,” Wood began thoughtfully. “I run into all kinds of trouble as a high school principal. After being Principal on a hellmouth, you can imagine that there isn’t anything a student could do that I haven’t seen. With that being said,” He glared down at Spike darkly. “There are some things they do that I really just hate. Pet peeves that ruin my mood.” His glare intensified to the point that Spike thought his eyes might flash red. If he were a true demon, and not just behaving as such, they would have. “If there’s one thing that I really hate, it’s when students come into my office and then start lying to me. I’m not stupid. I know when they’re lying. It’s like a sixth sense that I have. And liars…liars need to be dealt with.”

With Wood’s back to him now, as his attention turned to the set-up tray, Spike began to wriggle against the bonds madly. He was strong again! He could fight again! He just needed to get out. That was all it would take to be safe. He just needed to be released and he could take care of this mess! Freedom was only inches away. If. He. Could. Only. Break. Free!

WHACK!

The heavy blow on his leg made its point and Spike’s struggles immediately ceased. He looked up in wonder as he saw the angry Principal standing over him with a long dangerous crowbar in his hand. It seemed that detention was not going to be enough to deal with his infraction this time around.

“Of course, sometimes I don’t need my sixth sense to know when someone is lying to me. Sometimes I’m lucky enough that I see it with my own two eyes.”

 

WHACK!

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

The heavy, iron crowbar smashed down, again and again. His half-healed ankle was soon a whole lot sorer, and soon the other one joined the club of broken bones. He clearly wasn’t gonna be standing on those feet any time soon after all.

Spike sucked in a breath of air as his body jerked against the table, tearing into his already abused back. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t allow for this to happen. He was not going to be beaten down again; not now, after the paralyzing pain was subsiding. It was done. It was over with. He wasn’t going to be the victim anymore. He refused!

No matter how much he twisted and jerked to try to avoid the blows, it had no effect. the crowbar struck his legs soon here, then there, and suddenly he could feel his left kneecap shattering to pieces.

Spike bit the insides of his mouth to keep from hollering out. He was grateful he couldn’t see his legs very well, because if they looked the way they felt in that moment, he was sure it’d be a sight that was too much for his own eyes. Of course, he had seen a lot of horrifying things in his time, and caused a fair bit of them himself, a pair of busted up legs hardly compared. However, when it was your own injuries that were sucking the power out of you, suddenly your stomach and mind became a lot more sensitive. Funny that. The pain was endless, his legs felt shattered, and the blows continued to come down on him harshly. How could this be? Was this what it was going to be like from now on? A tiny piece of hope would come back into his unlife and then be ripped away within a matter of moments. He would be teased when the pain subsided, only to have more brought down on him worse than what he had already received. How long was he expected to be able to carry on “living” this way?

WHACK! WHACK!

His thoughts faded out, and all he could feel was excruciation in his legs. At this point he didn’t realize it at first when Wood started talking again. “... I’m sure you thought this was the light at the end of this very dark tunnel. You could rip through your prison and get to me. That you could get out of here! Isn’t that right?”

The sound of Spike’s nervous breathing was all that could be heard, but that was nowhere near good enough a response for the maniac.

“Isn’t it?” He screamed.

WHACK!

Nothing.

“I said I didn’t want you talking in general. You answer a question when you’re being asked it!” Wood brought the crowbar down again and again on Spike’s discolored legs. “You are not getting out of here! Even a monster at its full strength couldn’t rip its way off this table, what makes you think that you could with the lack of blood you’ve been getting, huh?”

Wood threw the crowbar to the side and loomed over Spike’s face, making sure to meet his eyes, wanting it to be clear that he was hearing him now. “And even if by some miracle you were able to break free and kill me. What do you think Buffy would do when she found out about the human blood that was on your hands? She already thinks you’re weak. You’d just be proving her right. That is before she dusts you once and for all.”

Wood put the crowbar back on the tray behind him, and took hold of the second item that he had brought in earlier. The crowbar was good for crude legwork, but for the damage he had been looking forward to the most for this session, the one that would truly wash the smile off Spike's face permanently, he needed a somewhat more precise tool. The hammer collided with Spike’s flattened hand, hitting it square on the wrist joint, causing him to almost scream out in agony. But somehow he summoned his last shreds of strength, and managed to bite down hard on his lip. Wood continued to lift the hammer in the air and slam it down on the injured hand over and over again. He hit his wrist, the back of his hand, and took care to crack each individual finger, first on the one hand, and then on the other, as his victim squirmed against the table. Wood saw tears forming in the creature’s eyes from the intense pain. Not one of them shed. Not one of the vampire’s tears had shed.

 

As Wood turned to make his way out of the room, he swore he heard a soft cry breach the vampire’s lips, just as a smile formed from his own.

******************************************************************************

It hadn’t completely sunk in; the scene that had played out back at her home before. Only it wasn’t her home. Not anymore. They had made sure to take that away from her too. Buffy had been stripped of who she was; everything that she was about, and everyone from her life. All she had now was this darkened street, the hard pavement in which she walked all over. What was she to do now? Who was she going to turn to for advice? The sidewalk and all its wisdom? Sure, she could talk to it, but she highly doubted that it would bother speaking back. It was just as well, it probably didn’t have anything interesting to say anyway.

With every step that she took, what had gone on became more real; the source of her upset became clearer. She was the Slayer, yes. Being this Slayer meant that she destined for certain things that the others never would be. She was the leader, she called the shots, and she made the hard decisions. They saw the glory in all of that while she saw the pain. They had no idea what it meant to be in her position. They couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like having the world riding on your shoulders day after day after day. She had been here before. She had been alone and friendless at certain periods in her life. She had always been surrounded by people who she couldn’t fully give herself over to, because of who she was. With her friends she had been able to share this with them; the good, the bad, and the ugly. They envied her power at times. She could feel that much and from where they stood it probably did look like a neat little gift. She had learned to accept who she was and what she had been made to be. Now, they thought the power was too much for her. She didn’t care. It wasn’t the power that she was upset about losing. It was them. It was their trust. The fact that after all these years, after everything that they had been through, they didn’t feel like they could trust her judgment. That was something she didn’t know how to handle. It was too painful for her to begin to wrap her head around.

She had walked around the neighborhood a few times, deep into her troubles, when fatigue started to take over. She knew that it was time to find a spot to lie down; preferably somewhere that had a ceiling, or a bed. She really could have used a bed right then. Most of the people in town had taken off. The hellmouth was something that they normally could turn a blind eye to; hell on earth could start to open up and people would claim it was an earthquake. She knew it was bad when even the natives couldn’t deny things any longer. With most of the people gone, it couldn’t be too difficult to find a place to crash.

Continuing down the street, a darkened house stood quiet, it seemed like as good a place as any. Lucky for her, she didn’t require an invite. She shook the thought away from her. Thoughts like that reminded her of Spike and she couldn’t deal with the idea of him right now, what he was going through, or what he might have already gone through. It was like playing Ping-Pong with herself; she just went back and forth on the matter of what to do. Truthfully, she wondered if there was anything she could do. If she was right about the vineyard, and she was more than certain that she was, Caleb and his army of bringers had taken out most her troop. They had been capable of killing and hospitalizing a large percentage of her fighters. How could she expect to take them on her own? More importantly, how could she expect someone like Caleb to have left her vampire alive? She sighed at that morbid thought and opened the door to what she believed to be an abandoned home.

She looked around the place, it was nice. She easily could be comfortable living there. It looked like she was going to have to be. At least, she could pretend that it was her home for the night; that she belonged somewhere, even if she happened to be all alone in it.

Click

Perhaps she wasn’t so alone after all.

Buffy rolled her eyes before turning around. She came face to face with a frightened man, holding a gun, acting as though he were prepared to fire. Buffy doubted it. The way he was behaving, she highly doubted he had ever fired a gun once in his life.

“Get out of my house!” The man demanded, showing a bit more confidence now.

This time she rolled her eyes right to his face, as she reached out and easily seized the gun from him. After clicking on the safety and tossing it over to the couch, she saw that the fear had returned to him. She sighed. “I thought the place would be empty. Everyone’s left town. You know, you really should leave.”

“You can’t just kick me out of my own house!” The man practically hollered; appalled by the suggestion.

Buffy looked at him, carrying an apathetic expression and tone. “Why not? It’s what all the cool kids are doing nowadays.” She nonchalantly made her way over to his kitchen and spotted his refrigerator. When she opened the door to it, the light did come on. She spoke as she looked up in the direction of the man. “Hey, do you have any Tab?” When her eyes met where he should have been, she saw that he was gone.

She let out a small sigh. It seemed that even to complete strangers she was poor company. Of course, had Faith been the one to barge in here, she was sure that not only would he have allowed her to stay, but somehow he’d pay her rent to stay in his own home.

She made her way around the house until she finally found the stairs. The bed was probably upstairs; that was where she usually found them anyway. She climbed the stairs, her pace was nice and slow. She wasn’t in a hurry. It wasn’t like she had anything important that she needed to get to anymore. So, she made her way into the master bedroom and the minute she saw the bed, she laid right down on it. She had hoped that she’d fall asleep right away. “Things always look better in the morning”, as they say. She really needed things to be better by then.

She would be lucky if she got to sleep at all tonight. She wasn’t completely alone it turned out. She had plenty of company. They were called: Bad Memories. They weren’t solely in her head either. She looked around the room and she knew she was living it.

There was an aching feeling in her stomach that she couldn’t get to go away. It was a sharp pain, a reminder of something that she kept pushing out of her mind; a truth that she was not yet ready to face; though if he had been with her then and there, he would have made her face it. He would have seen right through her. Spike managed to see things about herself that she had not only not realized to be true, but they were years ahead of her coming to that conclusion. He understood her. The sad part about all of this; the part that she didn’t like to think about, was that if he had been there tonight, he would have stood by her. This was a man that had started off trying to kill her. They had danced quite a dance together and they both had come out different for it. If someone had told her when she was 17 years old, that one day the person she was going to be able to relay on the most was Spike; she would have had that person checked into the loony bin. It was true though. She hadn’t known that it was true until this very night, while lying on that very bed, but she knew Spike would never let her down. Friends she had for years, known even longer than she knew him; shared with them every detail of her life, and yet Spike was the one who wouldn’t betray her. Her own friends would. They had. She hadn’t known it till that moment, but Spike had turned into her best friend.

She was worried sick over him too. As much as she wanted to get it out of her head, she couldn’t. She tried convincing herself that she would find a way to rescue him, but she didn’t completely believe it. She started to wonder how many things she could possibly worry over at once. She had a list a mile long. Was there a limit? Was there a point where a human could finally say that they had reached their quota of anxious feelings and boiling pain in their stomach? Could she simply explode from the inside out due to being filled to the brim with negative feelings? If so, she could count on a Buffy explosion, because she had no idea how to get what she was feeling under control.

Buffy buried her face in the pillow, one of her concerns coming back to life again. What if her friends were right? They were wrong. They were wrong about not going to the vineyard. They were wrong in their “need some tangible evidence” position they had taken. She knew she was right. She knew there was power there. She knew that bad guys didn’t just tighten security around mere air. They had to be protecting something. But no, they couldn’t trust her. She had lived this; in fact, it was her life, but…well really that was her anger getting in the way. She was angry. She had every right to be angry about their lack of trust, but it wasn’t the complete problem.

What if she couldn’t cut it? After they had worked with her all this time and then put someone else in charge after seeing her work up, close and personal; perhaps that meant something. Then there was the bleached blonde vampire, he had been taken right from under her nose. She kept allowing for him to be snatched up. She kept allowing him to be this thing’s bitch; two kidnappings and a trigger, Buffy wasn’t impressed with her own self, how could she expect anyone else to be? If she couldn’t do this job properly, then how could she save him? If she wasn’t fit to do her job as the others clearly had already indicated, what could she really do for anyone? What could she do for him? Why should she even bother trying at this point?

Just like being hit with a ton of bricks, the answer to that question came down hard on her.

He needs me.

HE believes in me…

And he needs me.

Buffy said these words to herself over and over again. She took in the peace that they gave her, and at times she swore that she could feel him next to her, telling her this exact same thing. He would have fought for her. He always had fought with her. She believed in him. He believed in her. She closed her eyes, picturing him right there with her, imagining that he was pulling her into his strong arms, holding her comfortingly; her support.

But when she peeked, he wasn’t there. Tears flowed down her face at this reality. He needed her and she couldn’t go find him. She had nothing to back her up. She hadn’t enough power to free him; to get him past Caleb, to save him. She wasn’t enough. He was dust already. She could see it in her mind. She could see the First dancing around his remains. She had probably lost him forever. The First had already tried kidnapping him, bringing him over to their side, but it hadn’t worked. He was her strongest warrior, it made logical sense that the First would eliminate him when It got the chance, and he had been gone long enough for his execution to be carried out.

The thought made a lump rise in her throat again, the tears spilling over once more. She had failed him. All that was waiting for her now was a pile of ashes in the old vineyard. That was all that she had left of him. In that moment, a new realization struck; one which she had been too blind to see for too long. She had lost the man that she loved.

She had lost Spike.

******************************************************************************  
In a state of misery, that’s how he had been left alone, yet again. Spike knew better than to struggle against the bonds that held him. What was the point? Where had it gotten him before? He was still trapped, wasn’t he? He was nowhere closer to breaking out of here than he had been when he first woke up at his full strength. Hurt or injured, it didn’t matter, he was a prisoner now, and he was starting to see that he had no chance at freedom.

His body ached and he had been defenseless against each blow that came his way. He had no means of defending himself, no way of getting out of this situation. He could hardly move a muscle with how tight these straps were. Before, he had been healing, he had finally been getting towards a more capable state, and that had been ripped away from him. He wanted to rip right into Wood back. He wanted things to get nasty with blood. He wanted to hear this psycho beg for mercy! He couldn’t do this, not with his hands, there was too much pain, and he was held down anyway. He did have one thing left. It was the one thing that he knew had the power to make anyone crazy, and often had. It was his mouth. Why else wasn’t he loaded with friends? Most couldn’t stand to be around that mouth of his, and Wood was soon going to find out why. He had taken everything else away from him, but Spike would get his digs in yet. No one knocked him down and kept him on the ground. He always found a way to get back up again. It may not mean he’d be walking through those doors again and out into the night air, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cripple his enemy. Bringing down beasties was his specialty.

The sound of stomping and then the swing of the door; Spike wasn’t alone anymore. It was clear that Wood was back, and with him he brought the smell of blood, all for the purpose of healing and damaging him some more.

In a matter of seconds Wood was in his face, peering down, and it didn’t take him long before the words started to flow. “Normally, by now, I wouldn’t have gone so long without giving you something to drink, but normally you wouldn’t have lied to me.”

“Barely feed me anyway. Not like I noticed a difference.” Spike spat back.

“If I stopped feeding you all together, I’m pretty sure you’d start to notice it.” Wood responded factually.

Spike grunted, speaking with confidence that he wasn’t sure he felt any longer. “Do you really think that you can keep this up forever?”

Wood shook his head. “No, not forever. I don’t have forever. Not like you do. Eventually, I imagine you’ll be left strapped to this table, nothing to eat, unable to move. You’ll be a skeleton on a table, only alive.”

“You’re not goin’ to get away with doin’ this, you know. It’s only a matter of time…”

Wood quickly cut Spike off. “It’s only a matter time before what? Before Buffy comes to save you? I think it’s been made clear to you by now that that is not going to happen. She has other things…more important things! That are keeping her occupied.”

Spike swallowed at the mention of Buffy; the mention of her absence in all of this. It seemed the two of them now had something in common. “What can I say? The mission is what matters.” Bitterness filled Spike’s tone.

Wood straightened up immediately when he heard those five words pour out of the vampire’s mouth. His hands formed fists, and he looked as though he were ready to rip the vampire apart from limb to limb.

“You should know better than anyone ‘bout that.” Spike continued. “What with all these chits you hang ‘round. Were raised by the soddin’ statement. If it wasn’t your mum sayin’ it, than ‘m sure it was her bleedin’ watcher. And mum, most of the time she was too busy fulfillin’ the next mission to take care of her own child.”

“Stop it!” Wood yelled loudly, becoming red in the face.

Spike simply ignored him. He wasn’t about to lie down and be a good boy, taking his master’s orders. “Must have been a real nuisance to have you around. Just another somethin’ that she didn’t have the time for. Had to save the world and all. Just squeezed you into her schedule of more important things. Her mission.” He gave Wood a knowing look, nodding his head at him, like he was onto this great secret.

“Shut up!” Wood screamed again as a look of murder was written across his face, and it was clear that he was only step away from driving something sharp and wooden through the vampire’s chest, if only to get him to shut up. He had done this dance with him already. It seemed to be Spike’s favorite subject to push, and it was because the vampire knew it was the reason he was in this predicament. Spike wasn’t stupid and Wood knew that. There was a reason that he was still alive after all these years. He played games and he played them well. Wood wasn’t about to be thrown off balance by this nothing. It only furthered the point of why he needed to be here. Vampires should die, especially him.

Carrying on, there was a dark edge to Spike’s voice now, driven by a dirty truth which no one seemed to want to hear. “Every slayer has a death wish. I simply was just bidin’ my time until they were ready.” A smirk formed. “Was doin’ her a favor really, your mum that is. She was curious ‘bout it. She wanted it. She even longed to kiss it. And all I did…all I did was make her deepest desire come true.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Wood screamed these words over and over again; covering his ears as tears streamed down his face, desperate to shield himself from the cruel words coming from what he believed was one of history’s evilest vampires.

How dare this disgusting murdering demon speak about his mother that way? A force of good now they said! Ha! They wouldn’t have thought so had they heard the words that had flown out of his mouth. Spike didn’t know his mother. He didn’t know her life. He only knew her in death. When he snapped her neck! He didn’t have the memories that they shared. He couldn’t know. How could he know anything about what it was to love? Because he had loved his own mother? He had made her as filthy as he had become. That wasn’t love. It was evil. That was all he had ever been and it was all he could ever be!

Wood stood breathing heavily himself, and it disturbed him how in sync his breath was with his enemy. A fire continued to grow in his stomach. The vampire must be real proud of himself. Wood was going to make sure that Spike could never abuse people with the English language again; or any language for that matter.

He watched the vampire’s breaths come in and out and in and out.

Breathe while you can Spike. Keep breathing while you can.

Madly, Wood’s eyes darted around the room, in search of something to do the job. It didn’t take long to find, not in these initiative labs. He quickly made his way over to the far end of the room, ripping a kit of some kind the counter that must have been left over from years ago. He wasn’t finished yet, oh no, there was something else on his list that needed to be checked off.

Tossing the kit down on the tray that Spike had become accustomed to mean pain, Wood started throwing open cabinets, looking for a much needed supply to the project that he had in mind. The noise suddenly stopped, and Spike could only figure that he had found whatever it was that he had been hunting. The blonde vampire wanted to see what it was that the bloke was up to, and yet he dreaded what it was that he was going to find. He knew that he had talked himself into a corner, when coming up into this plan; he probably should have tried to remember that was generally the side effect of his mouth. Sure, he always hit a nerve, but usually he was the one who actually got hit after.

Suddenly, he felt a prick go into his arm. Looking up, he saw Wood leaning over him, hard at work, doing something that he couldn’t quite make out. The pain increased a bit, feeling as though a bee was stinging him continuously in the same spot.

Spike sighed in annoyance and then spoke, attempting to keep the weakness he was feeling out of his voice, “Bloody annoyin’ that is right there. Mind stoppin’?” He rolled his eyes.

Spike got his answer when Wood pressed what was a cannula into his arm even harder. He finally released his hold on it and within a moment a warm sensation filled his arm; the smell of blood returning to his nostrils once again. “What’s the matter? Can’t stand watchin’ me feed?”

Wood looked at him with a calm exterior, as if having a conversation with the average bloke on the street. “No. I just don’t want you passing out through this.”

The words sent a shiver down Spike’s spine. Passing out through what? The question was answered within the matter of moments. A scalpel glistened in Wood’s hand, ready to take action, and it wasn’t hard for the vampire to figure out what was going to come next. It couldn’t be simple cuts this time; he wouldn’t need a transfusion if that were going to be what was taking place. Besides, when Wood had done that before, he hadn’t passed out, even when the hotplate burning began. No, they were headed into new territory; this was to be something different. It could only mean one thing, and Spike couldn’t figure out what he was going to accomplish from doing it; besides extreme torture. Then again, that was all Wood seemed to be after; vengeful torture. Anya would be proud.

He was being quiet for now, but Wood knew that his simple command of telling the creature to shut up was not going to take for very long. It hadn’t been long ago that despite his orders for Spike to be quiet, he had really hoped that the vampire would keep right on talking, so that he could keep right on hurting. That time had passed. Silence was now golden. He didn’t wish to hear his voice anymore. He couldn’t stand the sound of it. It wasn’t just the sound, but the English words that formed from them. It was the order that he put them in that was meant to stab him until he bled dry. If he allowed for that to continue on, it could work. If he wasn’t careful, his anger in all of this could get the better of him, and he could hardly have his fun with a pile of dust. He knew better than to go there, but in a snapping moment logic could go out the window, and he felt like he could quite possibly lose him. He needed to get a hold of himself, and he had figured out just the right way to take control of the situation. This; however, would be the ultimate torture for that vampire, not only would he be unable to speak, which had to be painful enough, but with everything that he was going to put Spike through, not a scream would be able to pass his lips. Not after this was complete. It was one thing for Spike to hold it back, he was in control then. It was his choice. To have that taken away, it wasn’t his choice; it was out of his hands. Next to that, it seemed the vampire liked his breath an awful lot. It was peculiar to Wood; he was the only vampire that he had ever come across that really utilized air. He did it with pain, working through it, but no more. Spike had mastered the art of pushing buttons and this was his reward.

The cool edge of the scalpel pressed into his middle, within a moment, Spike felt the blade make a deep slit. He was completely helpless, unable to do even the simplest tasks to make his own self feel better; such a balling up his fists. He had his breath. He still had his breath, so closing his eyes tightly, he used that. The pain was interminable, but he worked his way through it the only what that he could, refusing to let a noise slip passed his lips. He shoved his teeth into his bottom lip for good measure; at this rate he wasn’t going to have a bottom lip left when all this was done. Then it hit him for a second time. It would never be done. He would never be free. Wood would have him forever, until one day…dust.

The cut seemed to be just a warm up. The pain reached new heights when he felt Wood shoving his skin to the side, opening him up completely. Cool air hit against every part of himself that he was meant to wear on the inside; now suddenly it had been put on display. Blood started to pool onto the table, so much so that he could hear it spilling onto the floor. This hadn’t been the first time he had been in this monster’s clutches that his blood loss had gotten out of control. He should have been grateful for it; it would have meant that pretty soon he’d be free from the pain, but Wood had taken care of that. He desperately wanted to rip that transfusion device from his arm, fling it across the room, but anytime he tried to move his arm to do so, or even go so far as to lift his body up, pain riveted right through him. It seemed all this blood wasn’t doing a thing for healing him, on account of the fact that he was losing it rapidly. Still, he had to remember not to kid himself; it wasn’t as if he were to stay healed from the blood that was given to him anyway. That fact had already been proven to be true.

The sound of his body opening up, it had a squishy noise to it; a sound that he wanted nothing more than to rip out of his ears, but he’d never be able to. The feel of the blood dripping down his body, and the pain...he couldn’t put it into words. He had been through a lot of torture in his day, but this was beyond anything that he could wrap his mind around, and he had once been tortured by a Hellgod. Oh how he longed for his body to numb; to just go into shock already, but it wouldn’t. He could feel each and every scrape against his innards. It gave him an awful taste in his mouth. It tasted like…bile. He couldn’t throw up, but he wanted to.

Wood was elbow down deep in blood himself. He stared down at the ribcage now, standing as protection against harm to the victim’s lungs. This just wasn’t going to do. He was going to need to get those out of the way. How did he want to do this? There were two options that he could think of, and one was a bit more professional than the other. The medical way required that he make an incision down the sternum and push the ribs aside; wiring him up later once the procedure was complete. Then there was his way, which gave “cracking open the ribcage” an entirely new meaning. He grinned to himself. Was it ever really a question? He wanted to do it his way.

Whatever Wood had been doing seemed to stop. That didn’t mean that the pain ceased, but there wasn’t any new piercing sensation; just the same fire that was so beyond words that it was making Spike’s head feel fuzzy. It no longer felt like his pain. It was as if he were observing this now, watching it from afar, and the pain belonged to someone else, but he could still feel it. He felt funny and light; the nausea was still present, but then again it wasn’t really his, or so he was trying to convince himself. He knew the truth. He knew his mind was playing tricks on him and he desperately wanted to be so far gone that he wasn’t aware of those facts anymore. He knew his body was completely open, his blood dirtying up the floor. These thoughts made him want to scream. And suddenly…he did scream!

CRACK!

 

A piercing scream insulted the ears of the torturer, as blood now squirted, hitting Wood in the face and splattering against the walls, as Spike screamed bloody murder. There was nothing left in him that could hold back anymore. He was able to taste the blood in his throat.

Wiping his eyes clean, Wood pressed on.

SNAP! CRACK!

Wood split the bones in half, as he could hear Spike trying to use his method of breath to gain control of himself, but it was no use.

CRACK!

Wood smiled deeply as Spike’s screams rang out again. It was music to his ears and the decision to do this suddenly became more pleasing than he could have ever imagined. All these years that he had been in search of the right fiend, well now he knew, through that suffering quest, the wait wound up being worth it. If he had to do it all over again, having to go through all that work and wonder to get here, he’d do it in a second.

Heavy tears fell down the vampire’s face; it was his turn to cry. He whipped his head back and forth as much as he could; driven mad from pain. He wanted to grab something. Anything! He didn’t know…he didn’t really know what he wanted. He couldn’t think clearly. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the word relief. He only knew of suffering. He only…he only knew that he wanted it to stop! Although, he didn’t realize he was screaming these things out loud.

“Make it stop! Make it stop! Just make it stop! Bloody hell!” His voice shuttered as he cried out, speaking through hysterical sobs.

The pain was not ceasing and Spike needed to get control of himself. He was desperate to find a way to cope through the indescribable torture that he was being subjected to. He took deep breaths in and out. He just breathed out and in. Out and in. Once more again. Out and In. He just needed to calm himself. If he was of a more relaxed mind, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt so bad? He continued to practice this, and his screams gradually subsided. It was progress, but the pain was still intolerable, and he wondered if the only reason why his voice was quieting was because it was drying out, not allowing him to scream as badly as he felt the need to. Even so, he continued this practice of breath. At the very least it was calming.

The terror in his voice filled Wood with an indescribable joy. Blood covering his face, dripping all around his mouth, a smile formed. The sight that he saw before him was a picture of beauty. A truly suffering vampire now. Basking in the image, he located the buried treasure.

Spike continued to breath. Out and in, out and in. His wailing had subsided too now. All that could be heard was his breath. Out and in. Out and in. He kept himself sane this way. He was able to keep it together now. As long as he just breathed through things would be okay. His breath comforted him, it coddled him through this, willing to realize that even this pain would subside.

Out and in, out and in.

With one quick stroke over his sharpened scalpel, Wood rid the vampire’s body of the intended target, blood messily squirting up all over as this occurred.

Spike sucked in for another fresh breath of air, but couldn’t retrieve anything. He was being suffocated! He would die! Except…he couldn’t. He tried taking in another breath, but was only greeted by a feeling similar to that of being stabbed. He gagged, choked on his saliva. He just needed to breathe…he just needed to breathe.

Bloody hell! It hurts so bad! I just need to breathe!!!

Why can’t I BREATHE!

It was then; like a monster emerging from the shadows, Wood came into his view. If it weren’t for the blood transfusion, Spike would have passed out at the sight. In his hands, Wood held his lungs.

************************************************************************

Eyes fluttering open, confused and disoriented, Buffy wondered where she was for the first few moments while she awoke. Once the previous night dawned on her, she sat up in bed, and folded her arms over her chest. Surprisingly, her sleep had been good if you looked past the fact that she had cried herself into it. Even so, once dream world overtook, she had slept soundly.

She then stood up and made her way over to one of the windows in the room. She gazed out of it and saw the sun was greeting her with a good afternoon. It was a brand new day. One had come after all, despite the end of the world that last night had managed to feel like. It had been a nice hard kick to the gut, but here she was, standing before the sun again; nothing but a window keeping them apart.

Something within her stirred, screaming at her to get to work. What work? She didn’t have any work? She had been stripped of her duties; her friends and family. Her lover had been taken away from her; though he wasn’t really her lover, and now he never could be.

Well yeah, not if you keep standing here, he won’t be.

The odds of him still being of this earth were extremely unlikely. The image of dust underneath chains hung in her mind. Her hands became fists. That was her vampire! They had hurt him. They had quite possibly killed him! If she couldn’t bring back him body and soul, she’d at least bring back his ashes. It was a new day. She was on her own now; a different path. She marched towards the door and out of the house.

Alive or dead, Spike was coming home.

************************************************************************

As a Bringer tumbled down the stairs, Caleb and the First; who was dressed in a purple shirt and black pants (not to mention Buffy’s face), looked up from their conversation. They should have known that the peppy slayer would return to the vineyard. Her history showed resilience after all.

Caleb glided over to the stairs and noticed Buffy’s hands on her hips, her hair up in a ponytail; she appeared to be as cocky as ever. Given her latest defeat, where she was had gotten this newfound arrogance was beyond him.

“Hey, heard you’ve got something of mine.” Buffy addressed him with the upmost confidence as she proceeded to bound down the stairs,

Caleb remained where he stood calmly; it wasn’t as though he had anything to fear from her. “Well, if it isn’t the prodigal slayer.”

Buffy didn’t stay still, she moved around him, while keeping her own blood pressure at ease. “So where’s it at. I’m going to find it sooner or later.”

“No, you’re not.” Caleb’s impatience slightly showing, but he kept a tight control over any illogical Buffy concerns he might be having. “I lay one hand on you and you’re just one dead little girl.”

Buffy now stood in front of him as she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, egging him on. “Lay a hand on me…if you can.”

Caleb took a few casual steps over. Once face to face, he didn’t hesitate to throw a punch. Buffy immediately dodged the blow, tilting her upper body backwards and out of the way. She flipped herself over him, as he wound up losing balance, catching himself against a wine barrel.

Buffy rolled and tumbled across the floor, jumping up and onto the wine barrels as she ran deeper in the wine cellar; Caleb hot on her trail. She ran effortlessly from one barrel to the next, kicking one into Caleb, as she made her way down onto the ground. The barrel crashed into her pursuer, knocking him over.

Buffy’s voice could be heard from the side of the room. “Caleb, this is getting embarrassing.”

Caleb gazed up and noticed the purple shirt, it clicking that this was the First addressing him. He spoke as he picked himself up off the ground. “Do you have to look like that?”

The First widened Buffy’s eyes. “Will you concentrate?”

“It’s just a little confusing.” Caleb explained exasperated.

“Fine. Go. Kill.” The First vanished off the barrel, leaving Caleb to do the work he had been appointed to.

As he rushed after Buffy once more, it didn’t take long for him to get back onto her trail, as he threw another series of punches her way. Instead of fighting back, she simply jumped up into the air, flipping herself over him once more. She ran up against a barrel, using it to throw her towards the arc in the cellar, as she kicked off from that, hitting the ground in front of Caleb. Eagerly, another punch from him came her way, causing her duck this, and another punch that followed from this.

She took a few steps away from him, finding herself backed into a corner, as he intimidatingly stalked forward in her direction. The look on his face made it clear that he was celebrating a victory in his head. It was getting sad in Buffy’s opinion, as she once again flipped herself over her opponent and watched him fall into the wine barrels. He was clearly an idiot, and she didn’t know who was more pathetic; him for not catching onto her tricks at this point or her for having lost a battle previously to the likes of his stupidity.

Not wasting time, she ran off through the cellar, but stopped when she heard Caleb’s angry words.

“You whore!”

Buffy spun around on that one; however, a smile was written across her face. “You know, you really should watch your language. If someone didn’t know you, they might think you were a woman hating jerk.”

Furiously, Caleb knocked a wine barrel over; charging towards Buffy, completely out for blood.  
With the barrel moved out of the way, Buffy’s smile only brightened, as Caleb’s mistake was revealed.

A trap door hidden behind it.

Spike!

Buffy lunged forward, as Caleb threw his next punch, but she had already lowered herself towards the ground, conveniently avoiding the blow altogether. She slid across the floor and through the small open door in the ground.

Landing hard on the ground, with no time to spare, she pushed herself up, and headed through the darkness. What was she going to find? Would he be in one piece? Would he be…?

She couldn’t finish the thought. She had gone over all the possibilities time and time again. She knew very well what she was most likely going to find down here, but carrying on with these options weren’t going to help prepare her for what she could come across. Nothing could. It was now time to find out; to face whatever the reality of the situation might be. To…

Her thoughts were cut off abruptly at the sight of what she had found. It was nothing like she had expected at all. Her eyes widened at it, her mouth agape, as she felt herself being lured in. It was hers. She could tell that this was hers.

It was beautiful. She didn’t know what it was, but it was hers. A sharp pointed stake on one end and a red and shiny metallic blade on the other; the item itself wedged into solid rock. It wasn’t Spike. He still needed finding, but this would help make the escape with him so much easier.

Slowly, she approached the weapon, her body acting as if under some kind of a trance. She didn’t reach for it right away. Her face bewildered by what she was looking at; something so beautiful and dangerous that was meant for her. She wanted to feel its smooth wooden handle caress her skin, and just as she was about to reach it…

A loud crash caused her to quickly turn around.

“So you found it.” Caleb spoke to her as he made his way down a few steps, towards Buffy and her new toy. “Not impressed. Because the question now girly-girl is can you pry it from solid rock before I come over there…

Buffy reached over and effortlessly took her weapon out of its current home and into her hands; the place where it truly belonged. The amazement was still written all over her face as she handled it with extreme care.

Caleb let out a nervous laugh upon seeing this. Buffy turned the weapon over, looking at every angle possible; still unable to grasp what it was she was holding, and the strong feeling such a weapon provided her with. It was unlike anything she had ever held before, and it was hers. She couldn’t get that idea out of her mind. She kept saying it over and over again. It was hers. It was hers. It was hers. It didn’t sound real, but it felt real in grasp; along with the tingles it provided throughout her entire body.

“Now, before you go around and hurt yourself with that thing. How about you do yourself a courtesy and hand it over right now.” Caleb expressed, his body stiffened at the sight before him.

“Yeah. You want it?” Buffy held it out to him, but her own posture remained challenging.

“You don’t even know what you’ve got there.” Caleb announced while taking a step away from her.

“I know you’re backing away” Buffy observed knowingly. “Now, you’re going to answer a question of mine, unless you want to be sliced and diced right here, right now.”

Caleb didn’t say anything, he watched her warily. Buffy gaze was fixed on him, before she asked with all the intensity she could muster. “Where is Spike?”

“Bleach blonde fella. Has the British accent. Always seems to be lugging that leather coat on his shoulders.” Caleb described.

“I asked you where he was, not what he looked like.” Buffy shot at him through gritted teeth.  
“Now tell me something. What makes you think I’d have any use for a thing like that? I’m provided with all the workers I need.”

“You work for the First. The First has shown interest in him before any of us even knew It was around.” Buffy took a menacing step forward as she clutched her new favorite weapon.

Caleb’s face showed concern, his eyes moving from the item in her hands and back up towards her face. Still, he stood his ground, refusing to take any more steps backwards. “I’m told what information I’m in need of. Spike is not a part of the assignment I’ve been given.”

Buffy’s icy stare did not lift from him, but she had stopped proceeding forward. “I’m betting you’re lying and I’m betting you know exactly where he is.”

“And I’m betting that you’re wasting your time little girl. If the First truly has taken hold of your vampire, well then, he’s about as dusty as these floors we’ve got down here.” Caleb kicked the dirt floor for good measure.

“What makes you say that?” Buffy snapped.

“Because if there were higher plans for your pal there, I’d know it. He wasn’t important enough to make it onto my radar. I’m guessing that he wasn’t important enough to keep around. Here you are, looking for him, when you’ve got a world full of people that you need to be saving. Now I must ask you, where are your priorities at?”

“Right where they belong.” Buffy’s voice was upbeat now. “And if you don’t know where he is, then I guess I really don’t have any use for you, now do I?” Buffy swung the weapon at Caleb; which to her surprise he easily grabbled, holding onto it, causing a struggle between the two of them for the weapon.

Buffy kicked him in the stomach, knocking him a step back, taking the weapon for herself once again. She charged forward, hitting him with one…two…three times, before he recovered, punching her in the face.

As she fell to the ground, she kept her hands tightened on the weapon, jumping back up, swinging it at him once again. Caleb grabbed a hold of it with Buffy attached to the other side; he swung it, lifting her into the air, slamming hard into a nearby wall. As she fell to the ground, he threw the weapon aside.

Buffy felt a pressure in the back of her head, as Caleb lifted her off the ground by her ponytail. He used his fist to punch her in the face, before slamming her head into the wall a few times, and then let her slide down onto the floor.

As his foot came down to crush her, Buffy rolled out of the way, picking up her newfound weapon along the way. She swung it down towards his legs, which he jumped over, and then hit the weapon out of her hands into his own. She didn’t allow for this to last long, as she kicked up her leg, knocking the weapon back into her clutches, before launching a full on attack against him.

She let the device knock into him a number of times, before she threw a punch, and then a kick to his stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. When she lifted the weapon over her head and quickly aimed the pointy end to his throat, Caleb caught the weapon between his hands, before it was able to do its worst.

Caleb thrust the weapon upwards, knocking Buffy off balance, causing her to land on the ground herself. He jumped up and kicked her in the stomach again and again, knocking the breath out of her. He grinned as she lay helplessly on the ground, looking at the instrument in his hands, and then down at her. “I was kind of hoping it would go this way.”

Just as Caleb was about to slam the sharp end of the blade into Buffy, a powerful punch came out of nowhere, sending the Preacher flying across the room.

Buffy looked up at the man who had helped her in wonder, as she took the hand that had been extended to her. She was stunned as she stood up, staring Angel in the face.

The brown haired vampire gave her a small shrug. “I never did care for preachers”

“Angel” Her face lit up in a warm smile.

He returned the smile as he nodded his head. “You look good.”

“You look timely.” Her smile only extended.

“I heard maybe you needed a hand” Angel responded more seriously as he noticed Caleb standing up with a groan. Angel started to take a step forward, before Buffy put out a hand to stop him. He couldn’t help but grin. “Ah, it’s one of those things you have to finish yourself.”

“Really kinda is.”

Angel made a point of walking to the far end of the cellar, looking on in moral support. “You are so going to lose” He addressed Caleb, as he saw him angrily charging towards Buffy once more.

Buffy picked up her weapon of choice once more, ready to take on the fight that was headed her way. As Caleb approached her, she spun around, aiming the device at her enemy. She swung it towards him, causing the Preacher to jump backwards. She then knocked it into him, as Angel smiled, continuing to look on. “God I missed watching this.”

Caleb took hold of her, throwing her once again into a nearby wall, but Buffy quickly recovered, leaping towards him, knocking the instrument against him once more. Caleb grabbed the weapon, shoving it into her, knocking her flat on the ground. Not hesitating a second, Buffy swung up at him, shoving the end of the blade into his stomach, before mercilessly ripping it out.

Caleb opened his mouth, a stunned expression on his face. He took a few steps backwards, his finger raised in the air as if to say something, until he fell backwards, eyes wide opened, appearing to be dead.

Buffy looked over at Angel, seeing that the battle had now ended. “See. Everything is under control.”

They shared a smile, looking at each other, taking one another in. How long had it been now? With everything that had happened in both their lives, it seemed like it might have been decades ago that they had once been a part of each other’s world. And yet here they were, in the same room, about to fight the same fight once again it seemed.

Angel took a step forward, only inches away from her.

Not needing another moment, Buffy pulled him into a passionate hug. “I’m so happy to see you!” It felt so good. It had been all too long since they'd last seen each other. So much had happened since the last time she had had the chance to spend any time with him. And right now she felt so scared and lonely and desperate that just about any friendly face would've been a blessing. She needed this, to get someone back, now when she kept losing people. And, speaking of lost friends, she recognized she really had no time to lose indulging herself this way. She tensed up and pulled back. Angel stared at her, sensing the change in mood.

“Angel…”Buffy began. “There’s something I need to talk with you about.”

“I know what’s going on here. It’s the First, right?” Angel moved away from her and picked up a case holding an abundance of information that he had brought with him. “The thing that tried to convince me to kill myself?”

“Yeah, it’s gotten a little more ambition since then. It’s started to raise an army. But…” Buffy began once more. “That wasn’t what I was going to tell you.”

“What then?” He looked at her quizzically.

Before Buffy had time to answer his inquiry, Caleb sprang up from his grave, hitting Angel hard in the back of the neck, knocking him unconscious with a small, but hefty statue that was present. Black blood poured down his face; his pupils much too large for his eyes, as his attention focused back on the slayer. “Are you ready to finish this, Bitch?”

Buffy quickly swung her weapon towards him, but Caleb blocked the blow with the statue, before knocking it into her face. He grabbed onto the device she held, and lifted it up, holding her against the ceiling. After keeping her up there for a moment or two, he threw down hard against the ground.

Buffy jumped back up, spinning herself through the air, and kicking him backwards. Once Caleb recovered, he took another menacing step towards her. “You’ll never stop me.”

Buffy swung the instrument in her hand, looking annoyed as he continued to approach while speaking.

“…you don’t have the…”

She sliced him between the legs and up, conveniently cutting off the end of his sentence. Now, all she needed was for her old vampire to wake up, and maybe just maybe, they could find her current vampire. She sighed to herself as she thought over that last sentence. Her life was very weird.

******************************************************************************  
He had made his exit. Torn him apart, only to stitch him back up, leaving his gentle touch at the door, before making his grand exit, that’s what the monster had done. Now, Spike was left alone, stripped of every comfort he had while residing there; which wasn’t too much to begin with. He opened his mouth and was greeted by silence. He tried to suck in a breath and was greeted by tightness in his chest. There was a thumping sensation followed by an excruciating one along his mid to upper body that he couldn’t describe. He knew why. He couldn’t forget as much as he tried. The pain continued to thump and thump and thump. He needed to do something. He knew he shouldn’t touch it. He couldn’t touch it even if he wanted to. He did want to. It would hurt more, logically he knew this, but in his mind if he could touch it in some way, he could figure out how to make it feel better. Instead, it was out in the open that the only thing that was going to come was the continuation of such hurt. No one was going to come along and make it feel better. It was just going to feel like this until finally things started to grow back and he could have that sweet taste of breath in his mouth…

Only the minute Wood saw that, this process would repeat. That would be his unlife, surgery after surgery, indescribable pain forever. What was the point of that? What was the point of any of this? He wasn’t his own man anymore. He was nothing but a meaningless plaything for a Mamma’s boy who couldn’t carry on with his life. Spike would know. He loved his Mum, would do anything for her. Still, he had carried on after her death. No, he had never fully let go of what happened, but he wasn’t cutting into people, and playing with their organs, at least not with a soul anyway. That was the point, wasn’t it? Of the soul, to keep you from doing the things he had done without it. The ultimate Mamma’s boy, that’s what that bloke was, a bit extreme for his taste, and no better than the vampire he had once been that Wood was trying to punish now.

“I can’t believe that it’s true. William the Bloody is contained.” A male voice echoed throughout the room, as intense gazes fell on him.

Spike snapped out of his thoughts, straining to hear the words, and to see the faces. It was so hard to put anything into focus anymore. He couldn’t think past the torment of his body, the front and back were so very sore, and he wished he could get his body under control. The way it constantly shook tore into his back deeper, not that it mattered if it healed anymore, but still it stung terribly.

He studied the room a bit more as his eyes and mind worked together to ignore the signs that his body was screeching at him, allowing him to take notice of who it was that had surrounded him. There was one who stood a bit closer to him than the others, he was an older man, and Spike swore he had seen these people before. They were a nicely dressed bunch, a woman wearing a dark burgundy suit off to the left of the room, while two men, one in brown and the other in black, stood to the right.

“This is absolutely despicable!” The Female Watcher spoke up horrified by what she was seeing.

“Yes. It seems Rupert Giles didn’t exaggerate.” The older man, also known as Quentin Travers, began. “This Robin Wood really has crossed a very serious line. We cannot allow for this behavior to go unpunished.”

“The severity of this matter…I can’t…I can’t even think of a punishment suitable for this.” The Female Watcher spoke baffled.

“I don’t think he meant to overstep his boundaries, it’s clear that his judgment has been clouded by what this foul creature has done.” The Black Suited man observed.

“Yes, well, there have been plenty of other victims that have been hurt by this beast, and they didn’t align themselves with The First, so they could seek out revenge.” Quentin sighed. “It seems that we have arrived too late to stop this plan from going into action, but Giles did request we take matters into our owns hands. He suggested we exterminate the creature. It’ll certainly keep anyone else from getting hurt.”

“None of this would have been a problem if that Buffy had left him neutered as he was before. In a perfect world she would have taken him out when he was without his defenses. Instead she chose to aid and abet him.” The Female Watcher spat.

“I believe the chip malfunctioned, so she chose to have it removed, which ultimately freed him.” The Black Suited man commented.

“Yes. After the creature got his soul. I like to think that she was mistaken. After all, she had been fooled by Angelus once before. You’d think the girl would learn.” Quentin admonished.

“It’s in her nature to help, I suppose.” The Black Suited man reasoned by means of defending the Slayer.

“I do not question her heart. I do; however, question her methods.” Quentin gazed back down at the vampire intensely; examining him very closely.

Spike felt his body speed up, his shivers only increasing with each scrutinizing look. He knew who they were. He remembered. He remembered being in his crypt. He remembered them coming in. They held a cross up to him. They spoke to him; interviewed him. The one on the right, the woman, she had had a crush those years before. He had smelled it on her. He made her hungry. Oh God the pain! The pain! Why won’t it stop? Why does it hurt so badly! Did they know? Did they know that it hurt? Did they know that Wood had made it hurt when he cut into him? When he destroyed his insides? When he stitched him up? All of it was so agonizing. Would they care? He knew who they were. He knew they wouldn’t mind. They wanted to hurt him themselves. He couldn’t smell. It dawned on him. There was no scent. He couldn’t suck in for that anymore. He couldn’t smell their anger. He couldn’t smell their enjoyment of this. He couldn’t smell the sterile air in this lab. He could see them though. He could still see them. They must be their top members. That’s it. The Watcher’s Council had sent their top members to pay him a visit…and he couldn’t smell any of them! His trembles grew. His body ached and all he wanted to do was scream.

“The First.” The Black Suited man stated with disgust. “Working with The First…I have seen human beings do crazy things to seek out justice, but this…this is a disgrace!”

“It’s a shame, yes. Although, he is in quite a bit of distress. At least something right was done.” Quentin Travers looked down at him, and held Spike's gaze for some long seconds. “He knows who we are.” He smiled at Spike, though there was nothing friendly behind that smile. “Don’t you? And you know what it is exactly we’ve come here to do.”

“I’m still absolutely mortified by the phone call that we received.” The Black Suited man chimed in once more. “To keep a vampire alive like this, and it’s not as though Wood is a professional.”

“Obviously not. He teamed up with evil to do it. Not just any evil, but evil in its purest form. We must end this at once.” The Brown Suit spoke with a note of finality in his voice, but he quickly backed off of it. “However, he does have a soul…”

“That’s irrelevant.” Quentin waved his hand at the man dismissively. “We just went through that, or weren’t you paying attention?”

“I know he can’t be trusted,” The Brown Suit continued. “but I think we could learn an awful lot from him.”

“That’s preposterous.” The Black Suited man spoke up once more.

“The mechanics of it could be very educational. This essence which he possesses inside of himself, something that we all carry, has the power to overcome something so evil; it’s demon.” The Female Watcher pitched in.

“Are you suggesting that this creature is good?” Quentin glared at his employee.

“Absolutely not. I’m saying it gives him the illusion that he is good.” The Female Watcher clarified.

“I can accept that. But we must always remember that a vampire’s true nature always wins out in the end.” Quentin held up a finger making his point.

“I think it’d be interesting to find out where the soul is located” The Brown Suit chimed in enthusiastically, a nerdy tone of voice following.

Quentin shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it’s far too dangerous. Far too dangerous, indeed.”

The Female Watcher grew a smirk, her finger pressed to her chin thoughtfully. “We really could learn a lot from him though. I do have my own lab. Complete with restraints quite as good as this. I’ve been trained to understand the most dangerous of creatures. I’m qualified for this.” She licked her lips and gave Spike a hungry once-over. “Very qualified. I could take this on. On my own. It wouldn’t have to affect anyone else. Plus, you would be receiving very useful results. We could even learn a lot from him…” She walked close to the table he was strapped to, and gave him a vicious smirk. “And have quite a bit of fun in the process!”

“Like what? How to die?” The Black Suited man shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we came here to rid the world of this vile creature and take Wood into our custody. Vampires cannot be permitted to exist in this world. Even the newest watcher knows that vampires need to be staked.”

“We’re professionals. If Wood can keep him contained for this long and not have a problem, I think we’re capable of doing the same.” The Brown Suit joined in on the argument once more.

“That is a good point.” Quentin said in consideration. “We’re able to hold dangerous slayers after all. I think we can do the same for the likes of him. It’s not like he’s going to be capable of putting up much of a fight…We can have him transported to our labs at once.”

The Black Suited man was about to protest when the sound of hurried steps up the hallway and through the open doors caught their attention. Everyone turned their heads immediately to their colleague who had rushed in, distress falling over her features, as she caught her breath trying to speak.

“Mary? What is it? What’s going on?” Quentin took a step towards the young brunette watcher in concern.

“It’s…It’s…” Mary straightened her body trying to gain composure, the panic of what she had to say enough to make her look as though she might collapse.

“Out with it!” Quentin ordered on the verge of panicking himself based off on the state he was seeing her in.

“The building. Our headquarters. It’s been blown up! We’ve lost…everything! Everyone!” Mary shouted.

“What?” Quentin yelled.

“It was an attack. It must have been The First’s doing! They’re all dead. I just…I can’t believe it! They’re all gone…” Now, Mary did collapse.

The Female Watcher and the Brown Suited man immediately rushed to her side. Color drained from both of their faces as they knelt down by her, looking at Quentin, as everyone was unable to speak.

Quentin closed his hands, turning them into fists, his voice in a low and controlled manner. “Pick her up. We’re headed back to England.” He now gazed over at Spike with a glare.  
“It seems that we’ll have to abort this mission for the time being, but the minute things have calmed, we will be back. We will resume our plans when opportunity presents itself.”

With the watchers immediately rushed out of the laboratory leaving Spike to process what had just occurred.

She will come for me.

He had believed that once upon a time. He had believed in Buffy. Now Spike knew better than to carry hope around with him. He felt a wetness form around his eyes, his body’s trembling never ceasing, it seemed it was all he had left now, a terrible case of the shakes and tears which could make no sound. There was nothing left for him. There was nothing left of him. All he was was dust still in its previous form. For the first time in all of this, he wished for permanent oblivion to come.

***************************************************

The First needed to rest. If sleep was something that it did, well, it would have been laid out after that little puppet show it had just performed. It was taxing taking on more than one individual life. One was easy enough. It did that all the time but this plan had called for more. Sure, its true form was disturbing and it was enough to give these mortals nightmares for years to come. However, it had found that nothing was more traumatic than the reality that the victim was already facing. Often enough it played with the human heart, a silly thing, it weakened the side of good. Feelings. Humans got something out of the company of those they held near and dear. It could understand that yearning to touch, to feel, but to feel with one’s heart was a trap that would ultimately be their demise. So yes, It took advantage of their Achilles’ heel. However, that wasn’t the only way to damage one’s mind. Trapped, locked away, no control over the coming events. It couldn’t help but smirk at the horror the vampire in there was feeling. Poison to the mind, playing with that poison, poking at what hurt, whatever it was, that was far more scarring than It’s true form. Nightmares yes, but this current reality becoming his forever, now that was a scream!

Still, this had been a lot to take on, even for It. All that could be hoped for was that the desired effect from that little show would work out as planned. It didn’t just do these things for kicks. That was just an added bonus. Oh no…oh no…there was a method to this madness. It smirked while watching a trembling Spike through double doors,

“Pretty soon you’re going to learn what fear really is.”


	5. Like it or not, we're family

 

After making their way outside, Buffy walked along the silent night road with Angel only few paces behind her. The night looked peaceful, but it was deceiving. There was nothing peaceful about this night or any other for that matter. She could stand here, she could let it overwhelm her, or she could take control of the situation. She figured she would wind up doing a little of both. Action was the name of the game, and it was something that she had always been very good at doing. The only problem was, she didn’t know what action to take at this point, and it was enough to drive her to tears.

 

No Spike.

 

That’s why she had gone there in the first place. It was him that she had expected to find down there, but she had turned up empty. Well, not completely empty. She had found the toy surprise at the bottom of the cereal box, and this was clearly not something that Caleb had wanted her to have. Even so, it was the vampire pest that she had come to really find to be a friend, possibly more, that she had wanted to leave here with. Ideally, she’d do it with one arm around him, supporting him if need be. The darker scenario would be a pile of dust that she’d take to the safety of her home. It was one that she didn’t like to think about, but at least he’d be home, with her, where he belonged.

 

“So, what’s on your mind?”

 

Buffy jumped at the sound of Angel’s voice breaking through her thoughts. “What?”

 

“You said there was something that you needed to talk to me about. Not First related.”

 

“Right.” Buffy looked down for a minute before glancing up into his eyes. Those eyes that always used to drive her crazy. She felt the old rush of affection in her flowing towards him. It would probably always be there, but no, now was absolutely not the time for that! She had something else to focus on now. A very important mission to work on, saving a very dear friend in very dire trouble. Plan rescue mission for Spike now, bask in Angel’s eyes later… At some point when Spike would never learn about it! She focused her gaze at his nose instead, trying to calm herself. “It’s not completely unfirst related. It’s not about battle tactics, my usual war speeches that I find myself giving on a daily basis.”

 

“So, what is it?” Angel looked at her with a bit of concern; picking up on her uneasiness.

 

“It’s Spike…” Buffy saw Angel’s body tense immediately and his mouth open ready to spit out venomous words. She quickly held up a hand interjecting. “Before you say anything, let me finish. Things are different with him. He’s different. He has a soul now.”

 

“Oh. Well.” Was all Angel could get out.

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

 

Angel shook his head. “No, no, that’s great.” He then mumbled under his breath. “Everybody’s got a soul now.”

 

Buffy fixed her eyes on him a bit more. “What? Are you pissed?”

 

“No, it’s great. One for our side.”

 

“He’ll make a difference.”

 

Angel spoke, but more so to himself than he did to her. “You know, I started it.” He looked at her now, deciding that he wanted her to be in on his conclusion. “The whole…having a soul. Before it was all the “cool new thing…”

                                                      

“Oh my God, are you twelve?” She shook it off before pressing on. They didn’t have time for this. Spike, if he happened to still be alive, didn’t have time for this. “He’s in trouble.”

 

That got Angel to back down. “What do you mean he’s in trouble?”

 

Buffy was surprised to see the look of concern on his face. She figured that it would possibly grab his attention, but actual concern was not something that she had been counting on. Even so, she’d gladly use it to her advantage. “The First took him. I don’t know where. “

 

“What does it want him for?” Angel practically growled the question out. Spike and he weren’t exactly close. They weren’t each other’s favorite people, in fact, if you put them in the same room together, it took all of their self-control not to try and shove a stake through one another. Yet, the grand-sire in him was suddenly screaming for the blood of Spike’s capturer. In that moment, petty jealousy over a soul, their history, none of it mattered. The only thing that was of importance to him in that moment was getting Spike out of wherever he was in one piece, and punishing the thing that had hurt him. He was still family after all.

 

“Then I say, let’s find him.” Angel started to take off, clearly not wasting any time.

Buffy hurried after him. She was all for finding Spike, but she didn’t see how he could plausibly be able to do that right on the spot of hearing about his disappearance. Perhaps it was passion that was driving him, which again, was strange to see Angel have for Spike, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to come up with any other explanation. “Angel, my big lead on where he could be ended here. I have no idea where to look next.”

 

“If I didn’t have my nose that would be a problem.”

 

“Your nose?” Buffy looked at him curiously.

 

“His scent. I remember it pretty well. It’s not around here. He’s been nowhere near this place. We’ll have to keep walking until I can pick something up from him. I’ll track it from there.”

 

Right, heightened sense of smell. That was an ability of theirs that Buffy found to be less impressive and just down right icky. “You vampires…did anybody ever tell you that the whole smelling people thing’s a little gross?”

 

Angel looked over his shoulder at her in annoyance, but carried on walking. “Gross or not. It’s what’s going to get him out of this mess.”

 

******************************************************************************

 

Wood opened the door to his captive's prison, and entered the room. The sweet events of the last time he had been down here still rang fresh in his mind. The cracking of bones, the splatter of blood, it had been gory, but all worth it. He had started to believe that stubborn vampire would never break. It had taken so long, demanded so much effort. But then, finally, he had been able to bring shameless wails and whimpers out of that wretched thing's throat. Naked terror was finally present in the monster's face, unshielded by his usual cocky attitude. And the screams! When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the screams. Loud and shrill and agonized. Such a pity he had robbed himself of the chance to achieve that again. For a while anyhow. Vampires heal...

 

He looked down on the, by now even literally, filthy creature on his table, and admired his handiwork. The jagged scars from the holy water soaked whip still somewhat visible all over his face and body. Bruises up his legs, a big bloody mess of torn skin and broken ribs at his roughly stitched up midsection. Arms ending in utterly meshed up hands, with fragments of bone bulging against the stretched skin around the wrists, and fingers bent at odd angles. He remembered when he'd broken those hands. He remembered Spike's scrambling against the table, and all the more his steadfast breathing. In and out, in and out, rapid, shallow breaths, steadying into deep heaving ones, as the vampire worked on getting the pain he was inflicting on him under control. Wood subconsciously started listening for those breaths, even now. He turned his head and looked up into Spike's face. Pale, hollowed cheeks, stretched tight along a jaw that was no longer moving with the intake of air. A nose that was absolutely still, not quivering with the scents of the air, like normally, when Wood entered the room after a while's absence. And those eyes. Glazed, faded, looking emptily out in the room, at nothing at all. He suddenly felt a sick little lurch in his stomach. Stood still and listened again. There were no breaths.

 

He knew he'd wanted it, when he last was down here, a couple of days ago. Knew he'd been looking forward to coming back, to see how the vampire handled his punishment now when he couldn't breathe. But now when Spike's breaths were gone, it felt wrong somehow. It was too quiet down here without. He remembered how often their breaths had come out as one, how they, at least without any planning on his part, had found the same rhythm of it. He suddenly became very much aware of his own breaths. Too shallow, too quick, like he was trying to compensate for the lack of breathing noises from his enemy. He started feeling dizzy. Wondered if Spike had felt that way, when he breathed wrongly. Of course not! Vampires don't need oxygen, so they shouldn't feel faint from hyperventilation either. Although, right now, he honestly didn't look much like a vampire. No breath, no movement, pale beyond even his common vampiric standards. The glazed empty eyes really clinched it: This was not the vibrant, active, energetic vampire he had gotten to know. This was a corpse. A very battered, clearly dead corpse _. "You're looking for revenge on a man that doesn't exist anymore"._ Maybe Buffy was finally right in that now, he mused eerily to himself. That corpse didn't seem to have anything more left in it. It looked like one the eternal soul had left. What an irony, considering this vampire, unlike mostly all of them, actually had one, residing in there. What did that mean, exactly? Ah, quit the crap! It didn't mean anything. The monster was still there, right? It may have fooled Buffy, but certainly not him. He looked down on the cross in his hand, and nodded. This symbol still burned the so called souled man this demon had turned into, right? Clearly, he was still an abomination, hated even by God.

 

As if to prove his own theory, he jabbed the cross into the nearest patch of skin he could find, on Spike's shoulder. It sizzled and burned nicely, but after a while... it felt empty. Ungratifying. Especially after the victorious evening he had here last time he came. He laid back his head as the memories of Spike's screams and whimpers came again, and smiled. And ached. They had been so shrill. So agonized. Maybe his mission was complete now? Maybe the vampire who took his mother away had finally gotten the required payback? Perhaps this was the right time for the main staking event?

 

He reached into his pocket and took it out. The short wooden stake. Held it in his hand. Tried to straighten out the mess in his mind. It was over now. It had to be. It was not fun anymore, and that meant it had come to a natural end. But if he only waited a bit longer, gave Spike's lungs time to heal... He could get screams again! Somehow the notion made him sick, rather than excited. He looked over at the vampire at the table, and noticed that he had gotten into another fit of trembling. That had been mighty unpleasant while he had been trying to stitch him up after the surgery. The trembles, shaking up the entire undead body, and making it impossible to do any neat needlework. Well, no need to feel ashamed of his bad stitches now. Turned out there wasn't such need for them after all.

 

He loomed over his trembling, helpless captive, and raised the stake. "For you, mother", he found himself whispering, noticing tears striking down his face. "I'm finishing what you started". He looked his mother's murderer in the eyes one last time - and saw tears there too. Silently streaking down the vampire's face, leaving a trail down through the caked blood and general dust from the room that had gathered there. Those eyes the tears were coming from, though, seemed as distant and desolate as before. He studied Spike's face curiously. He saw his mouth moving, as if to form words, but of course, none came. He wondered who Spike thought he was talking to. His head was shifting, face contorting in a pain that clearly wasn't physical. Wood realized that the expression he saw written on his enemy's face was the one he secretly had been longing to see there ever since they met. That of deep, unquenchable guilt.

 

Damn monster! He had never once looked like that all those times lately when Wood had been berating him for what he had done to his mother. Granted, he had perhaps not presented his case in the most sympathetic manner but... Ahh, this was getting too weird, better just bring down the stake and finish the job already. But, he couldn't. He found himself putting it down, and getting drawn towards Spike's head, soaking in his inner, emotional pain. It resonated with his own in a way he hadn't thought possible. Suddenly he found himself reaching out his hand towards Spike's face, not to strike, but to gently wipe one of those tears away.

 

His tearstained cheek felt cold, ragged with caked blood and scars, and dangerously thin. Hollow. With bones sharp enough to cut oneself on. It had been a lot more fleshed out when they had started this game down here together, about a month ago. He clearly needed more to eat. But stop a moment! What on earth was he doing, suddenly worrying about this? He wanted this particular vampire to suffer as much as he could! He wanted him to ache, and bleed and starve. And feel all the emotional anguish known to mankind. He was the monster who took his childhood away. The reason he had grown up an orphan, with no normal life. This moment of finally dusting him was one Wood had been looking forward to all his adult life. So why didn't it feel sweeter?

 

He finally got up. He was tired right now. He'd make a final decision on what to do with the vampire later. Right now he just needed to make sure that he didn't dust on his own, and it wouldn't hurt either, to make sure his wounds healed a little faster, so that he'd have more clean, white vampire skin as his canvas, should he soon desire to carve out another pretty picture of hurt. So, he went to the ice box in the corner of the room, where he kept it, and took out another bottle of blood.

 

He noticed with some annoyance that the vampire didn't seem to notice him now either. He trembled, and stared into space, and paid no attention to either Wood or the bottle in his hand. First when he had the bottle practically shoved up Spike's mouth, he got a reaction, but it was not the one he was hoping for. Despites how hungry he must be, Spike simply turned his head away and pressed his lips together. "Come on" Wood cooed, half teasing, half annoyed. "I really thought we had gotten past that, hadn't we?" Nothing happened, until Spike's head suddenly whipped towards him, knocking the bottle out of his hand, and snapped at him with his fangs out. Wood cursed, and drew back, before he bent down to pick up the bottle, which had broken into pieces and laid there literally bleeding its’ contents out over the floor. Damn that vampire!! Well, if he wasn't gonna be a good boy and eat his dinner the regular way, he would have to get it forced down. With how soft he had gone lately, Wood thought that might be best too, to not bend down over him and feed the wretched vampire from bottles, like he was a sweet little baby, but rather through tubes, perhaps pump him so full he exploded, and dusted from that? Probably wouldn't work, but it was worth a shot anyway. He went and prepared the IV - set.

 

******************************************************************************

Spike didn't even notice Wood coming in this time. The world around him had faded into a blur of insignificant light and noise. Even the constant pain from all over his body felt strangely distant, like it belonged to somebody else. He was floating, on a cloud of nothingness, with his various thoughts and mental images floating around in the same nothingness, like wisps of smoke, impossible to grasp or hold onto. Time, which had been his constant enemy down here, slugging along in its excruciatingly slow speed, filled with enough nothing - boredom, anxiety of when the torture would resume, and bad memories, to drive even the strongest vampire crazy, didn't hurt anymore. He was nothing now. Done with the world. Just intricately composed dust, waiting for a chance to disintegrate. It couldn't be long now...

 

Another jolt of pain disturbed his tranquility. His shoulder was sizzling. Fine. Whatever. Not like he cared anymore. Unfortunately, it seemed his body did, though. It started trembling again. Those damn trembles, that had come and gone almost regularly ever since It happened. Ever since he lost his breath. And the wisps of thought-smoke seemed to crystallize, and become more readable images. He wished they wouldn't. He was driven back to the memory the First had referenced, probably a long time ago now. About Dru and Angelus giving him a lesson in how little he was worth to them. Huh, It must really have a liking for long dead things. There were so much fresher, sorer material It could have brought up, had It only had the creativity. His mind floated to the first time he had actually made love with Buffy. Her shock and dismay afterwards, and utter dismissal. "One vampire made me hot. One! But he's not here. You, you're just convenient." Sad thing was, it was probably true. He'd known that much all along. Even though it had still hurt, every time he had gotten to hear it. "It could never be you, Spike! You're beneath me!" How he'd cried, back in that alley, when he'd heard her say that. Laid there in plain public, with her cash spread over him, and just weeping like a baby. Pathetic, really. And still, he could feel himself doing the exact same thing right now, just from the memory of it. Cold, wet tears streaked down his face, like it had just happened, even though it was more than two years ago by now. "I know, Buffy! I know!" he found himself mouthing, soundlessly. "But things have been working a little better lately, haven’t they? I almost thought you'd given me a chance?" Yeah right. She wasn't here now, right? And it had been how long? Why hadn't she come? Did she really not care to? Why?? Oh, he knew why. He knew it all too well. He had never deserved even the signs of affection she had given him of the past half a year or so. "Ask me again why I could never love you!!" She had been so right, back there on the floor of her bathroom. There really was no reason she should. Not after that.

 

His detrimental train of thought was stopped by a weird sensation, of a soft touch of someone's hand, trailing down his cheek, and wiping a tear away. What the hell? What was Wood playing at now? Surely it had to be him; there was no one else in this desolate place. But this made no sense! Oh, whatever. He was too exhausted to ponder this now. He did his best to drift off into nothingness again.

 

It didn't work very well, and soon he found his drift disturbed again, by something cold and hard and smooth pressed up against his mouth. It was a new bottle of blood! He could feel the taste of the first mouthful, slithering down his tongue, it's effect already bringing his mind better together again. Bugger that! He pushed the bottle out, by turning his head to the side, and pressed his lips firmly together. "Come on" he could hear Wood coaxing. "I really thought we had gotten past that, hadn't we?" The hell they had! This was over! Whatever mercy game it was Wood had going for him for the moment, Spike was done playing it. He was not gonna humiliate himself by taking favors from that living monster. Ever again. Sure, that policy would eventually dust him, but what was the harm in that? Nothing, as far as he could see. An added benefit, by now. It was about time he started playing this game on his own terms. He eyed the bottle, and noticed how loosely it was held. if he aimed right...

 

He whipped his head back towards Wood, flashed his fangs, and knocked the bottle out of his hand, and onto the floor. It was kinda satisfying to see how the git cursed, and jumped back in shock, and eyed both him and the bottle in obvious frustration, before he picked the bottle up and pulled back. Hah! Victory. At least for a little bit.

 

************************************************************************

 

There wasn’t much of a trail left. Correction. There wasn’t any trail left for Angel to follow. No lingering scent of the vampire that had once annoyed him to the point that he had played with the thought of tossing him out into the sun, but now was desperate to find, and bring all of his shenanigans back into his unlife. He knew he wasn’t dead. He would have known if that were the case. They were family after all and despite their inability to get along most of time, there was a bond here, and one that couldn’t be shattered no matter how much both of them most of the time believed they wanted it to be. The problem was Spike could be anywhere. Who’s to say that he was even in Sunnydale at this point? It was their best bet, what with The First lurking about, but that didn’t mean that It hadn’t rid him from this town if It found it to be convenient. Still, it gave them somewhere to start.

 

Buffy’s eyes couldn’t help being fixed on Angel. She was baffled by him. He cared about the outcome of Spike. Angel cared about Spike’s welfare. That sentence didn’t sound right to her. It was such a foreign concept. Then again, Angel was all about helping the helpless and right about now Spike seemed to fit the bill. He did have a soul too. He wasn’t exactly that blood sucking fiend anymore that she had met in the back of The Bronze after dusting one of his lackeys. He certainly wasn’t the beast that Angel had gotten to know throughout the years. The soul makes a difference. Angel knew that better than anyone. Despite all these logical reasons that he might give a damn, it still didn’t add up for him to, well, give a damn. Spike and he had never been able to be in the same room without being at each other’s throats within five seconds. It wasn’t as though their relationship was something that had either one of them bragging. Complaining, certainly, but never something they spoke with pride over. Simply put, good or evil, they didn’t ever have anything nice to say about each other, that was until Angel had learned of his grand-childe’s disappearance. Buffy couldn’t figure it out, especially considering her personal history with Spike. Then it hit her, Angel didn’t know. How could he? Where would have learned it from? Spike was still just his annoying grand-childe, not his annoying grand-childe and his girlfriend’s ex-lover. She had to figure that made all the difference. Either way, she didn’t want to risk losing his help by finding out.

 

His help comforted her enormously. With him there she wasn’t so alone on the hunt as she had been since she learned of Spike’s kidnapping. No one else had been willing to get on board with this and they had blamed her for having a heart over this matter. If it were Willow, for example, she highly doubted they would have felt so easy to shrug her off. Thinking on it, it had been Willow once before. They could have stopped his ascension with the box they had taken right from under The Mayor’s nose, but they traded it back for their friend. Spike’s life was worth less than that to them.

 

She sighed, she knew the situation was different, she knew where their fears were coming from, but she had been right. Caleb did have something of hers and maybe it wasn’t Spike, but it sure as hell was something that had been worth taking from him. The way that he had backed away at first when she held it, she knew it had great power, she could feel it just by holding it in her hands. They thought that it was her judgment that was clouded, yet she was the one with something of great value that quite possibly could hurt the other side. No, she wasn’t done looking for Spike, but her responsibilities had gone unshirked. Now, surprisingly enough, she did have someone in her corner. Someone who believed in her, and could help her. She could have cried right then and there. A part of her wanted to do that. Just stop right here, and curl up on his lap to have a good cry. Just soak in the sight and smell and sensation of Angel, and allow herself to feel little and helpless, and protected, like before. Her mind strayed to the last time she had done just that, after her mother's funeral, when all the others had left, and he had come for her. Undemanding, with no pressure, but open arms strong enough to hold both her and her pain, for as long as she wanted. But Spike wasn’t dead yet, she had to believe that, so there wasn’t time for that. She was on a mission. The First, Spike, she…no correction…they were going to bring him back and save the world.

 

 

“I’m not picking up on anything.” Angel practically growled.

 

“I guess we can’t be surprised he hasn’t been walking the streets lately.” Buffy sighed.

 

“Can Willow do a tracking spell of some kind?” Angel inquired, unaware of what he had just stepped into.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “They’ve placed their focus elsewhere.”

 

Angel’s expression didn’t change, but it was clear that he wasn’t surprised by this. “So his soul changed him, just not their opinions of him.”

 

Buffy shrugged. “It’s not like that. Not completely. I don’t know. I guess it depends on which one of them you talk to. They just are keeping their sights on the battle…”

 

“And here you are, without any backup.” Angel observed.

 

“It’s a long story. “ Buffy shrugged it off. She didn’t want to drudge up the mutiny that had happened the night before. Besides, they were after someone much more important than the tale of her woe.

 

Angel could sense that this was a sore subject. He couldn’t imagine her little group of demon fighters ever breaking up, but they weren’t out here, and it was very telling. “So, I’m your one?”

 

Buffy nodded. “Looks like. Which is kinda weird.”

 

Angel crinkled his eyebrows. “How?”

 

“You’re it. For finding Spike. You can’t tell me that even you don’t find that to be a little bizarre. I don’t exactly remember either of you exchanging nice words. Then again, he was evil. Still, it seems a little backwards that you’d be the one taking charge right now.”

 

“And who would make the most sense?” He gave her a questioning gaze that only stopped when a moment of silence passed between them. “I don’t like him, but he’s family.” He rolled his eyes out of annoyance. “And he does have a soul. I can’t say I’d be out here if he didn’t have one, but he does. So, let’s just find him.”

 

Buffy nodded her head, on board with that notion. Besides, she didn’t need the conversation to go any deeper into territory that she was already relieved he didn’t know was there.

They continued through the silent dark night, she didn’t even have the comfort of his breath to fill the quietness of the evening. Then she remembered. That was a Spike thing.

 

Weird vampire.

 

He was that and it was one of the things she missed most about having him around. Angel was good to have around, she cared about him, she always would, but…he didn’t breathe.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. It’s not like this is the first time he’s been taken this year.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but out it came.

 

“You can’t blame yourself. You’re doing everything that you can. You’re a very capable woman and together we will get him back, and you will take The First down.”

 

“That’s what I keep hearing. That’s what everyone wants to be so sure of, but none of us can be sure. I hate to say it, but without Spike’s power we’ve taken a major hit. He’s one of our strongest weapons.” She wanted him back for so much more than that, but she couldn’t say it. He’d pick up on something and she couldn’t deal with that right now. She knew in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t find him on her own. That was the biggest problem of all, if she couldn’t manage to even find Spike on her own, how was she supposed to save the world from the apocalypse of all apocalypse. She spoke more softly now, this constant worry unable to be bottled up. “Everyone’s counting on me. It’s my job. Save the world. Kill what goes bump at the night. But…shouldn’t I have someone I can count on to?”

 

Angel gave her a sympathetic smile, and stepped up in front of her, to hold her arms tightly. "Yes you should". She returned the smile, and was one moment away from giving in to her urge to just melt into his embrace when he continued. “I might be able to do something about that.” He reached into his pocket, drawing Buffy’s attention to his hand, and out he pulled a fashion disaster of a necklace, big and clunky, but sparkly, and it held it Buffy’s way.

 

“Can’t say it’s really my style.” She commented dryly.

 

“I was given this before coming here, when I heard that you needed some help. Kind of shady source, but…”

 

“Any port in an apocalypse!” Buffy smiled.

 

“They say a champion is supposed to wear it.”

 

Buffy looked into his face for a moment before clearing her throat, putting the focus back onto their search. “Anything?” She couldn’t get into this right now. Not without Spike, not without seeing him, she could deal with the title of champion then. She’d deal with Angel’s placement in this when she could see that Spike was safe and sound back home. Only then would she know what to do with Angel, but right now, for the night, there was only one mission that she could handle being on.

 

Angel’s head lifted up in surprise. “Actually. Yes.” Without another word, Angel raced off, leaving Buffy to quickly catch up and keep up with his super sensitive nose.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Spike wasn’t going to open his mouth. He could feel a Wood’s eyes on him now, but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to open his mouth. He didn’t care how appetizing Wood tried to make any blood that he was carrying with him appear to be, there was no attempt that could reach his stomach now. There was a rock inside of it. Nausea hit him at the mere thought of blood, though for a vampire to actually throw up took quite a bit. A pain in his heart wouldn’t be enough to do it, though he wondered if he could throw up the poisonous thoughts that had taken over his mind and be done with them for good.

 

“If you’re not going to eat willingly then we’re going to have to go about this another way. I’ll have to help you.” Wood stated with slight exasperation.

 

Spike eyed him with his choice of words. Help. What was this guy playing at? Besides, he couldn’t help him. Not with blood. Not even with less than hostile words. There was only one thing in this world that Wood could do for him. That promised staking that he knew had been looming over him since the minute he had been bound down to this table. Where was that? He had done everything to him. Was there any way he could really top what he had already dished out? Why wouldn’t he just get it over with! But no, here he was with blood, and promises of help that Spike did not want. Wood really was a master at torture.

 

Wood continued to gaze down at the vampire who still carried that dazed look on his face, but it had become tenser. It wasn’t surprising that he wasn’t getting any answer from him at all, now that he could speak anymore, but Spike could not even bring himself to look in his direction. There wasn’t even a glare attached to his look anymore. It was all too clear to him that he had completed what he had come here to do, but where to go next he wasn’t sure. For now, he just knew the creature needed to be fed. So, he took the vampire by the arm, and started to work the IV inside.

 

Spike’s shuddering increased at the feeling of the needle slip into his arm. What was he doing now? No! This couldn’t happen!

 

No! No! No!

 

He could feel his shouts coming up to his mouth, but nothing came out. He was sure that Wood could see his protests, he wasn’t blind. It wasn’t his right! It was his own choice! Wood had no right to take that away! He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. Spike tensed his arm up and that only made the IV sting more as Wood shoved it into his arm. Spike couldn’t stand for this. He couldn’t have it. What gave Wood the right? He could beat him in all the worst ways, but this was too far. It just was! He didn’t need a reason to be so strongly against this new violation. He was against it above all else. He was just so tired! All the noise in his mind, all the pain, there was so much pain. He was just tired. He wanted it out of him! The IV, the memories that continued to insult his mind, everything, he wanted it out!

 

Take it out you soddin’ wanker! Have no right! Don’t get to make decisions for me! My choice! My buggerin’ choice!

 

Wood could see the fight that was going on, although it was more internal. It had reached the surface, the tightness on his arm, the animalistic look on the bleach blonde vamp’s face; well he had gotten the reaction that he was looking for. The constant struggle between Spike and blood had been baffling from the minute it had started that month back when he had first brought him here. He thought vampires loved their blood. Spike, on the other hand, seemed to go out of his way to be a pain in the ass in regards to it. Right now, he was more passionate about not having it than ever before. That was taken care of, the IV was doing its job now, ready to start filling his body with sweet blood…

 

“Damn” Wood swore under his breath as he lifted the tube of the IV up for him to see. “You have got to be kidding me.” He shook his head. “Sit tight.” He smirked as if Spike had a choice. He ripped the IV roughly out of his captive’s arm and tossed it to the side in annoyance. “Damn thing’s clogged.”

 

Relief washed over Spike’s face.

 

“Don’t celebrate just yet. I’m sure there’s another one around here somewhere…” With that daunting thought, once again, Wood left Spike to stew.

 

******************************************************************************

 

“I don’t see anything.” Angel observed as he and Buffy stood on the green grass of what appeared to be an abandoned area. All he could see was the beginning of woods, but where was Spike? It wasn’t as though the openness of the location provided a lot of hiding places? Yet this spot strongly smelled of him.

 

“This doesn’t make sense.” Angel sighed.

 

“Yes. Yes, it does…” Buffy’s voice was barely above a whisper.

 

Angel turned and looked at the Slayer, her tone of voice shaken enough to send shivers down his spine. When he saw the look on her face, he saw why, she was practically pale. Wherever they were, this was a very bad place, and the chances were something very bad had been done to his childe.

 

Buffy didn’t wait to explain this place to Angel before she started ripping down at the ground with her bare hands. The last time the use of a shovel had been in order, but this time she didn’t bother. She dug in the dirt with her hands; not caring that her fingernails were breaking in the process. He was down there. Why? Why the Initiative compound? Her stomach turned. She had been down there before, she knew everything that was lying about, it was a place where pure evil could have its fun.

 

Instead of stopping her from her hysteria, Angel joined in on the dig, tossing dirt aside with his hands. Right now, it didn’t matter what this place was. He could get answers later. It was clearly a bad place and somewhere that he needed to get Spike out of and fast.

 

They hit something solid, and stepping out of the way, Buffy reached down and threw the hidden door open. It seemed she was jumping through a lot of those these days. She jumped down without sparing Angel a passing glance.

 

When she reached the ground she walked without hesitation, not waiting for her unexpected partner in all of this, she just headed down the hallway…a lit hallway. She knew that Angel was behind her now, she could hear him crash to the ground, much like Spike had the last time. Had she been in a more playful state that would have been amusing, what with vampires supposedly having coordination, but she didn’t have time for that, nor did her mood call for it.

 

Angel noticed the light as well, but judging by the massacre they were walking around, and the lack of upkeep this place was experiencing, he’d say that it hadn’t been used in a long while. “Lights being on. Not a good sign?”

 

“Nope.” Was the only response that Angel heard come from Buffy.

 

This was getting ridiculous. He caught up to her and took her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks. He knew that getting Spike out of here was the mission and he let her go out of her mind up there before, but for Spike’s sake he needed answers if they were going to get out of here alive. He needed to fill her in on some answers even she wasn’t aware of right now. They were not going to blow this having found him now. He wouldn’t let them.

 

“Will you stop for a second?” Angel demanded.

 

“We don’t have a second!” Buffy retaliated angrily.

 

“Make one! Buffy, we are not alone down here.” Angel said lowering his voice, but the intensity in his tone remained.

 

That caught Buffy’s attention. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean I can smell someone else. Recently. There’s a heartbeat off in the distance somewhere. It’s not just Spike that’s down here.” Angel loosened the grip on her arm.

 

“A human?” Buffy processed this for a moment. What human? What would The First need with a human anyway? She shook her head. There wasn’t time for this. “Then we’ll deal with him…her…whatever.”

 

“Him.” Angel clarified. “It smells like a him.” He sighed in exasperation. “Buffy, what is this place?”

 

She stared at him with a blank expression before answering all too simply. “Hell.”

 

With that, they walked on, resuming their frantic pace, as they moved from hallway to hallway. She wanted to get her hands on the human that was in this place, she could handle one measly human. If she found out that they had harmed a hair on Spike’s head, she would make them pay. She would make them wish she had killed them.

 

She stopped short in her tracks when Angel did. He was staring through a pair of double doors, and if it were possible, he looked even whiter than he normally did. In that moment, she knew what he was looking at. A lump forming in her throat, tears ready to spill from her eyes, and she hadn’t seen the site that he had just yet.

 

She slowly retraced her steps, making her way back towards the double doors that she had passed in her anger. When reaching them, she faced the glass. The sight that met her eyes made her gasp and in an instant she threw the doors open and flung herself towards the table that Spike had been bound to. “Spike! Oh…Spike!” She didn’t realize that she was hollering. It didn’t matter either. Who was she going to alert? The human? Good. He could come and she could pay him back with pain. She started working at the bounds around Spike’s wrists hastily, unable to keep from talking to him, wanting him desperately to know that he was safe. She needed him to know that she was going to save him. She was going to make this right.

 

“I’m here now. It’s alright. I’m here. You’re alright…”

 

Buffy continued to coo at him, but the state that he was in wasn’t completely lost on her. He was without clothing. For how long now? And why? She could see why. She could see why very well. The markings. The abuse that had been done. It was sickening. She felt nauseous thinking about the long list of damages that was forming in her mind as she looked from one part of his body to another and another. Comfort now. Get sick later. Strength. She needed to find that inner strength she possessed, at least for a little while. Clothes! She needed to find him clothes. Something comfortable that he could wear over the havoc that had been inflicted on him. There weren’t any with her at this moment. She hadn’t known to bring any, the last time he had been left with his pants at least. Now, it seemed clothing would have gotten in the way of marking up every inch of him. The sooner they got him out of there, the sooner he could be taken care of. Yes. That would be better. The healing of these wounds. The road to recovery. The comfort of clothing. The comfort of something other than here. Something normal and familiar.

 

Angel walked into the room slowly, standing in the background as his eyes ran over his grand-childe. Broken bones, blood, he was terribly thin. He had always been thin, but this was unhealthy. He could see his ribs jetting out. The fact that he could see his ribs was of disturbance. No dignity. Laid out for all to see every bit of him. The shame of it. Despite the situation displayed before his eyes, Angel couldn’t take his eyes off his boy. He couldn’t stop staring at the horror that had been made of him, or the truth that was right in front of him, that he didn’t dare to believe until he was directly addressed.

 

Buffy looked up after freeing one of Spike’s wrists. “We could move a lot faster if you were helping.”

 

“They operated on him…”

 

“What?” Buffy’s look of annoyance melted into concern.

 

Angel spoke again, softly, almost timidly, unlike his usual self. “They…they operated on him…”

 

Buffy gazed down at the condition of her former lover, having seen only a glance of what had been done to him before rushing into action. Her mind had only registered that he had been damaged, it just didn’t pick up on how badly.

 

She immediately took a step back, her hands raised in the air out in front of her as if they would hurt him if they got any closer. She stared at him unable to move, frozen in place, trying to process the news that she had just been given. What possible purpose could have come from opening him up?

 

She didn’t have time to question this further, her head popped up from the sound of something, and she soon realized that it was a growl coming from the cursed vampire beside her. Angel had vamped out completely, his eyes an intense yellow complete with furious features. She set her own jaw tightly, fury rising in her own self, and she knew that the two of them were on the same page. With that they both stepped towards the table and began freeing him once again.

 

Spike didn’t believe for a moment that they were real. They never had been in the past. It was means to hurt him again. It was means to break him. Joke was on them, yeah? He didn’t hurt anymore. He was numb. There was nothing left to feel. There was nothing left to him. Then she touched him. Her hand. On his arm. She undid the bonds that held his arm in place; he could move it freely if he chose to. He didn’t dare. It could be a trick of some kind. A game that he would lose if he played. But, it was Buffy. Buffy didn’t play games. Buffy had touched him. Could it be true?

 

Buffy?

 

His lips formed the word, but nothing came out. He could hear her whispering gently to him, but…his eyes darted over to Angel. No! Not…not him! It couldn’t be. No. But that would mean? He had been wrong. He could still hurt after all. He of all vampires should know that the truth was sometimes more painful than the lie. It was why he had often shoved the truth in Buffy’s face in the past, because he knew that what was going on right in front of her eyes or just under her nose would pain her more than any lie that he could ever fabricate. Now, he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

 

She was with him. Why hadn’t Wood taken his unbeating heart too? There was no life to it anyway, there was no chance of it ever beating again, it was useless. It would only love what was lost. He could only love what he would never have. How could he miss someone that had never been there with him in the first place?

 

_I believe in you, Spike._

 

Yet, she was running around with Captain Forehead. She couldn’t wait to jump back into his arms the minute that Spike had been taken from her sight. She needed a stronger warrior, for the war and for her life; he wasn’t it.

 

_Got yourself taken by the soddin’ First twice now, what did you bleedin’ expect? Good for nothin’, that’s what you are. Especially now. Been made more of a nothin’ than you were before. Buffy can see it. Don’t bloody well care, still got herself more of a nothin’ than I am now. Soddin’ pounce Nancy Boy over there is._

 

“Spike?” Buffy looked into his eyes as Angel worked to get the last lock down by his ankle undone. “Spike?” She tried again, this time waving her hand in front of his face.

 

Spike eyed her. There was a look of sadness in his eyes that Buffy could feel crush her heart, but she was able to get nothing more than that.

 

“He’s really quiet. For Spike. Shouldn’t he be swearing and calling us daft or something?” Buffy inquired.

 

Angel didn’t comment right away, but he had been thinking that exact same thing. Spike had a mouth on him. It was one of the first things that popped into a person’s mind when his name was mentioned. He didn’t hold his tongue. Ever. Wait a minute…Those stitches, they meant an operation, an operation meant…what? What had been the purpose of cutting him open besides the torture of it? Now it was Angel’s turn to feel nauseous. Throwing up was not something that vampires really did a lot, but in that moment an exception quite possibly was going to be made. “They took his lungs…”

 

Buffy’s head whipped over at him sharply. “What?”

 

“You heard me…”

 

“I really really don’t think I did.” Buffy’s eyes boring into him demanding he’d come to another conclusion.

 

“Buffy, he can’t talk. He was operated on. You’re right, he is being too quiet. Spike is never too quiet. He doesn’t know how to be. For someone who doesn’t like the comfort of people he sure as hell likes to goad them into an argument. Why would he suddenly be so silent unless he had to be?”

 

Buffy felt as though she couldn’t breathe now. Angel had to be wrong! He needed to be wrong! But, it added up. It was the only explanation. She certainly couldn’t come up with anything better... “Get him free.” She ordered through clenched teeth.

 

Angel did set back to work on the final clasp, doing just as she demanded. When the clasp was off and Spike’s leg was free, Angel walked up by Spike’s torso, and prepared himself mentally. “Here we go.” He spoke to no one in particular. He slipped his coat off and then carefully lifted Spike off the table and into his arms, covering him up, giving him some dignity back while listening to Buffy say a lot of “Careful!” and “Don’t hurt him!” the whole time he was picking him up.

 

Jolted from his state of self-pity by the searing pain that shot up and down his body, Spike felt himself being lifted from the table. It was impossible not to feel it. Every nerve in his body was reacting from what he was certain had to be more abuse. However, when letting his eyes focus in on what was happening, he saw that it wasn’t his usual tormentor’s arms that he was lying in. It was the other one. A tormentor in a different way, mental and emotional, and in some ways so much worse. Tall, dark, and broody, who had no right. He took his love, robbed his heart of what he held dearly once again, and then thought he could play the big strapping hero without there being any consequences. Oh! He’d show him!

 

He couldn’t hiss. He couldn’t growl. That didn’t mean he couldn’t get his point across. Eyes shooting up at his grand-sire’s face full of pity that he just wanted to slap off, Spike flashed his fangs out, as his eyes took on a more golden color.

 

Angel glanced down at the animalistic expression on Spike’s face before muttering to himself. “Well, it looks like he remembers me.”

 

Making their way towards the double doors, exiting, Buffy turned to face Angel. “What about…you know…him?” Buffy gestured with her head indicating the human that was in the compound subtly, not wanting to catch Spike’s attention on the matter.

 

Angel paused, listening closely, and then shook his head, “Whoever was here before is gone now.”

 

************************************************************************

 

Wood was running as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t have time to question the discovery of his captive, why the slayer had ever thought to check the initiative was beyond him. It was known that the seal was in the school basement, the entrance to the hellmouth was where The First could be found. There was no time to come up with anything solid to answer to this inquiry, he just needed to get home, be as far away from the scene of the crime as possible, and figure things out when he was safe.

 

The IV had been in his hand ready to give Spike his meal. He had left the room for only a few minutes when all of a sudden voices could be heard coming from the lab where all his games had been played. Originally, he thought it was just The First playing with him again, not that Spike seemed to be paying attention anymore. As Wood had gotten closer to the room, he peered through the doors as usual, and just as he was about to push those doors open, he saw it. The touch.

 

It was really them. He didn’t stick around longer to get any details after that.

 

As Wood reached his apartment, he rushed inside, locked the door behind him, and slammed his back against it, catching his breath. He was on the verge of panicking. They had found out. He could be found out! What he had done, how he had betrayed them, he hadn’t meant to! He had been desperate and The First held the key to exactly what he needed. It was so easy for him to be judged, but had it been any of their mothers they might not be so quick to cast stones! Logic wouldn’t get through to Buffy. He had heard the tone in her voice the last time he had been in a mess like this. He remembered her final words to him. His vendetta had gone much further this time. She couldn’t find out. He had to do something…

 

Yet, Spike couldn’t speak. He wouldn’t be able to speak for some time. He was safe as far as the bleach blonde vampire went…for now. He just needed to stick around, make sure The First was taken care of, so it never said anything, and Spike…well...he just needed to take care of him before he got his loud mouth back. That would be easy enough to do if he couldn’t call out for help. Spike was much too wounded to fight back. A mere struggle on his part would damage him severely. Wood would follow through with that promised staking and then all his problems would be gone. He had a plan. What he learned recently was that he was very good at carrying his plans out.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Spike scowled the whole way to Buffy’s. Every step Angel took only deepened the angry expression that was on his face. His thoughts were almost enough to make him forget the jolting pain that shot up and down his body as they continued to move. Almost. There was no thought deep enough or emotion intense enough that could get his mind completely off his body. He so desperately wanted to be put down where his wounds couldn’t be battered and irritated any further. His back, his front, they both had been mutilated badly; there was no comfortable way to be held, so why couldn’t the brute just let him alone?

 

Buffy walked alongside them, gazing over at Spike in concern, sometimes ruffling his hair here and there trying to be of comfort to him. She ignored the curious look that appeared on Angel’s face every time she did this. Right now, what he was or wasn’t picking up on couldn’t be a concern of hers. With Spike, nothing that she did worked. His mood could not be fixed. He would not take comfort and the tension in his body wouldn’t die down.

 

Buffy desperately wanted him to speak. It was eerie. Silence was something that never came from him. He might take a breath, which was weird enough for a vampire, but that was the length of quiet that he seemed to be able to handle. She longed to hear his voice after so long of wishing that he would quiet himself. It was her own complicated feelings that wanted to silence him, because then she wouldn’t have to face what they both knew to be true. He had never let her live in denial. He had gone after her so much harder and so much more passionately than anyone before. She had shot him down time and time again, but with reason. He had been evil. He had been everything that she was supposed to be against. Eventually, he had gone too far.

 

_He has a soul now._

 

He was different, he had proven it, and where as she had stopped using him, and they had started treating each other with respect, she still couldn’t help but push her feelings away. Why did she do that? Why take him for granted? His words and everything that he was? Now, he was lost. Hurt. Angry. There was so much pain and all she wanted was to fix this, but all he could do was glare at Angel. Mistake Number One: Letting them near each other. She was off to a great start.

 

Spike just wanted Angel to put him down! He wasn’t needed anymore. He never needed him. He had done fine on his own without him…well besides during this Wood business, but it didn’t take Angel to get him out of there. Buffy could deal with this on her own just fine now. But no, they were shagging like bunnies by this point; that sicky sweet part of the relationship where they couldn’t leave each other’s side. He wanted Angel to be dust.

 

Angel arms clenched at Spike tightly, holding him securely, trying so hard to make it clear that he was safe now. He wasn’t stupid. He could see the look on his grand-childe’s face. He could see the disgust.

 

_The big strappin’ hero comes through again._

 

He could almost hear the words pouring from Spike’s lips. It was too bad. Angel was here to help him. No one hurt him! Though he had done it plenty of times as Angelus, even his demon had never gone so far. He had never injured him badly. It made him furious all over again that someone had, and with that, his secure arm tightened around him even more.

 

That was it! Spike had it! Take his lady! But how dare he suddenly pretend that his fate mattered in the slightest! It was probably a weak attempt to impress Buffy. Yeah. That was it. Show her how heroic he was. Get himself an in, so they’d hop into bed and he could get all serial killer on her once more. What else was he going to believe? That despite their differences Angel was still helping?

 

_Bugger that!_

 

His fangs ripped right into Angel’s skin. He bit at it ferociously, the blood of his Sire spilling into his mouth. He felt rabid. His fangs going in deeper and deeper, as he tore at the arm, taking away layer upon layer of now damaged skin.

 

Buffy looked on horrified, taking a step to stop this, figuring that Angel carrying him hadn’t been the best plan, but her former lover spoke softly before she was able to take any kind of action.

 

“Go ahead, Spike! Bite at me all you want. I don’t mind. I’m not putting you down, and I’m not going away. Throw your tantrum. Get all of that anger out. Put it on me if you have to.” He sighed. “Besides, you look like you could use a meal. Drink all you need.”

 

Spike’s fangs slowly extracted from his arm, more from shock then from not wanting to hand over the satisfaction. He didn’t understand this reaction. What was going on? Maybe he had completely lost it? Could it be that he was imagining all of this? Could it be that he was still stuck in the lab after all and he was only imagining a rescue? Or maybe Wood had finally dusted him and he was in hell. He couldn’t think of a fate worse than a world where Buffy and Angel were back together while he was being cared for by this Nancy Boy. It couldn’t be real. It didn’t make sense. Angel would never have taken a bite like that, least of all from him of all vampires. He didn’t understand…

 

With that he fell into unconsciousness, having worn himself out.


	6. There's no place like home

  
Buffy couldn’t avert her stare from Angel. Had that really just happened? He had been showing signs of deep concern. Concern was one thing. She didn’t completely understand the bond of a vampire family, but this was beyond family obligation. It was genuine.   
  
“Don’t say a word.” He wasn’t stupid. He knew what this was about.  
  
“Not saying anything.” Buffy continued walking down the road.   
  
Angel was grateful for the matter to be dropped. That was until Buffy spun around in his direction.   
  
“Did I miss something between you two? Because the last time I checked staking each other wasn’t out of the question. Now, you’re letting him drink from you? What gives?”  
  
Buffy lifted an eyebrow, but when her gaze met his, she was surprised by the expression that had fallen over his face.  
  
He looked at her in desperation; like his soul was shattering within him. “Look at what they did to him, Buffy!” He suddenly appeared disgusted, his voice shaking from the strong emotions bursting through. “Even in my darkest days…I never…I was the epitome of evil!”  
  
“I remember.” Buffy spoke with certainty.   
  
“So did Spike. When he was a young vampire, he still took people out, he liked his bloodshed. But, he wasn’t so…he had a gentler attitude about him. That was until I got to work on him. But even when I toughened him up, I never harmed him to the point where he could hardly take care of himself. Even I wouldn’t practice tortures like this on him.” He shook his head. “Look at him, Buffy. Look!”  
  
“I see.” Buffy kept her voice in forced control. They both couldn’t very well break at the same time. Hers would be a break that would have to wait.  
  
“I will take care of whoever did this to him. I don’t’ care who they are. They will pay for what they’ve done.”  
  
On that eerie note, Buffy decided to remember to never piss off a grand-daddy vampire.  
  
After walking in tensed silence they finally reached the outside of her home, or what had once been her home. She didn’t know if it was any longer. She didn’t work with them. They didn’t want her and with the events that had unfolded, she wanted to be able to say that the feeling was mutual, but it wasn’t. Spike. This new weapon. She wanted to be able to jump up on her high horse over these victories. She had been right. She held the weapon that scared even Caleb. That had killed Caleb. Shouldn’t she be ready to shove this in all their wrong faces? But, she wasn’t. In the end, all of them just wanted to live. She was merely sad that they didn’t trust her enough to carry them through this. She knew she couldn’t save them all. That was a harsh truth that she didn’t try to hide from them, but after all these years her friends couldn’t trust her to make the right choices based on logic and not a blinded heart. She realized she wasn’t angry. She didn’t feel haughty now. She was just sad.   
  
Now, it was time to face her judge, jury, and executioner once more. Was she looking for a reprieve? The truth was she didn’t know what she was after by being here. She only knew that they were on the same side of this war and if she had gained more power she needed to share it, if there was any hope of them being able to win. If she could keep more people from dying then that was exactly what she was going to do.  
  
They made their way up the porch steps. Taking a deep breath, Buffy knocked on the door.   
  
In a few seconds the front door was opened by a frustrated Giles. His jaw dropped by the sight that greeted him. Buffy presenting herself in what appeared to be a professional manner, an unconscious Spike, and then a paler than normal looking Angel. Wait. Angel? What purpose could Angel be here for?  
  
 _Because there aren’t enough soulful vampires lurking about. Of course it only reasons to add one more to the mix._  
  
Giles’ eyes fell back on the unconscious vampire, dealing with one soulful vampire at a time; however, his body tensed up right away as he held back a cold remark directed at the one still standing. He then decided to focus fully on Buffy instead. “It’s a good thing you’ve stopped by. It’s complete madness inside.”  
  
Buffy couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction over this.  
  
 _Serves them right. What did they expect? Ask for Faith as a leader and this is what you’re going to get._  
  
However, Giles’ next words chilled Buffy to the core and suddenly she didn’t feel any “I told you so’s” coming on as strongly.  
  
“Faith took the potentials out on a mission. It didn’t go according to plan. A lot of girls have been injured…” Giles looked down for a moment. “Some didn’t pull through…”He gazed up at her sorrowfully. “Faith didn’t pull through.”  
  
Buffy stood frozen. Faith. Dead. She couldn’t form a solid thought. Bits and pieces of questions and feelings flowed through her mind, but she couldn’t hang onto them. It meant so many different things. So many conclusions could be drawn. All these different feelings could be felt, but not one stuck around long enough for her to think it through. She was numb. It was Angel who found his voice first.  
  
“How did this happen?” His teeth were clenched and it was perfectly understood he would be out for more blood.  
  
“There was an explosion. A trap was set for the girls and they walked right into it.” Giles explained.  
  
Angel let out a growl at his explanation. “This thing keeps giving me more reasons to kill it.” He wasn’t Angelus, but right now he was considering exploring some of his practices when he finally caught up to this thing. He didn’t know how. It wasn’t corporal, but he would somehow find a way.  
  
Giles didn’t miss the mood that Angel had suddenly taken, but he refused to acknowledge it. He wasn’t going to give him the attention that he so desperately sought while playing with the darkness that still existed within him. He may have forgotten the history that existed between them, but Giles had not. Instead, he put his focus on Spike, who was sleeping in his grand-sire’s arms. The holder of Buffy’s time. The reason why she had not been there to protect the potentials and help Faith in their recent battle. He looked as though he might breathe fire and burn Spike where he lay. “So, this is what you’ve been doing with your time, I see. Putting all your energies into finding that vampire when the world is coming to an end!”  
  
“Excuse me?” Buffy spoke in a dangerous tone.  
  
“These were exactly what our concerns were. Buffy, I hate to say it, but you have completely lost focus on what it is that should be your first priority!”   
  
Buffy’s voice shook in anger as she spoke, trying very hard to keep her fists to herself. “You have no idea what I’ve been doing since I left. Since you all made me leave!”  
  
“I have perfect clarity on what it is your recent activities have been aimed towards. Or should I say who. That you would put that demon before the lives of not only those you hold near and dear, but the whole world! I can’t find the words for it!”  
  
“Really? Because you seem to be talking quite a bit.” Buffy shot back at him dryly.   
  
Spike’s eyes fluttered open. Where was he? He couldn’t tell. It wasn’t the lab. Shouldn’t it be? Was this another one of Woods’ games? New torture just around the corner. Bugger it. It didn’t’ matter anyway. Life was pain. Even for creatures that existed in death.  
  
The arms tightened around him. Arms? But whose?  
  
 _Bollocks! Soddin’ Angel. Remember? He’s bein’ the pouncy hero again. Come to save you to keep the girl. Rub it in your face, I wager._  
  
He wanted to growl again, but then he heard it. Anger. That meant punishment. Punishment meant pain. Scalpels. In his dazed and disoriented condition, he couldn’t make out the words, but the loud, angry voices made it clear that an argument was going on.  
  
As he was struggling to make sense of it, the others kept said argument going. “He is a danger to have around here. The First obviously has plans for him. Trigger or no trigger!”  
“What are you saying? We’d be better off leaving him in the clutches of evil that wants to use him against us?” Buffy challenged.   
  
“No. But I don’t think the vampire that doesn’t have control over his own actions half of the time should be your greatest priority. Soul or no soul!” Giles shouted.  
  
Spike began shaking at the sound of Giles’ voice. A voice that was infuriated with him. A voice that wanted to harm him. More pain. He should be used to it by now. There was always misery. There was always punishment. How much more of it did they expect him to be able to take? Except Broody and Buffy, despite his own displeasure with the formed team, it seemed as they weren’t interested in bringing down more pain and suffering on him. They wanted to help.  _Help._  What a funny word that was, but that’s what they were trying to do. It had to be what they were trying to do. It was them that had taken him out of his prison. It seemed a fair guess that Buffy was defending him to the angry Watcher. Could she win this? Or would the angry Watcher have his way? Bring him to a lab so he could be played with. Surely Giles knew of his bosses’ intentions. Wasn’t it he who had called them? Either that or he just wanted a dusting. He hadn’t been known to follow their orders to the letter over the years.  
  
Angel raised his own voice having kept quiet much longer than he thought possible for him. “Enough!”  
  
Giles and Buffy both turned towards him immediately.  
  
Angel’s voice softened noticing how Spike jumped in his arms slightly when he yelled. “You’re scaring him.”   
  
Buffy caught the look on the frightened vampire’s face. This was not the Spike that she had come to know over the years. She knew of the horrors that had been done to him, but it was Spike. It was so hard to believe that there was anything that could reduce him to such an openly terrified, shuddering lump. His quick wit and sarcastic remarks were gone. Not that he could speak them anyway. He still should be giving them annoyed glances and looks that screamed the swears that he was thinking. Instead, he was just afraid, and she was afraid, because he was afraid.  
  
“Scaring Spike?” Giles looked at Angel bewildered.   
  
“Yes, he’s pretty jumpy right now. Wouldn’t you be if you had been tortured for a month?” Angel responded protectively.   
  
Giles immediately glared at his former attacker. “Trust me. I know exactly the feelings of one who has been viciously tortured without mercy or reprieve.”   
  
Angel, who had begun tending to the shivering vampire in his arms, immediately ceased to do so as he looked up with realization of what it was he had exactly said. No, who it was that he had said it to. He went to speak, but he was cut off right away.   
  
“Don’t you dare say a bloody word.” Giles barked. “If you do, it could very easily be your last.”   
  
“I’m not trying to belittle…” Angel began.   
  
“You’re not trying to belittle what? What you did to me?” Giles took a challenging step forward.   
  
“What Angelus did to you.” Angel finished, staring Giles in the eyes.  
  
“I see. Your alter ego. Actions that you’re not responsible for because you didn’t have a soul. A free pass. I’m so tired of hearing this bloody excuse for you. And for Spike!”  
  
“It’s not an excuse. It’s the facts. I take responsibility for what I did to you. Or what Angelus did to you. You don’t have to forgive me for it. You can wish me to hell everyday if you want.”  
  
“I do.” Giles looked at him an expression of murder on his face. “Believe me, I do.”  
  
“Fine. But, I would think with the knowledge that you have, having once been in Spike’s position yourself, you could find some compassion for the treatment that he’s gone through.”   
  
Giles eyes fell right away down to take in the appearance of the apparently broken bleach blonde vampire before him. Once filled with an annoying confident swagger, he now lay weakly in the arms of the one he had hated for so long. It was a sight that Giles, safe enough, figured would never come to be. He couldn’t make out the extent of Spike’s injuries, because most of him were wrapped in Angel’s coat, but he figured if he needed carrying, some healing was going to be in order for him. He didn’t care to admit the point that Angel made, but there was some truth behind his words. That didn’t mean he was going to acknowledge it, not out loud.  
  
“I take it The First is responsible for this?”  
  
“Yeah, that would be our best guess, but It had help. A human.” Buffy spoke informatively. Secretly she was glad that she didn’t have to use her slayer strength to keep Giles from trying to kill yet another one of her exes.   
  
“Who?”  
  
“I don’t know. He took off before we could ask him questions.” She looked at Spike, seeing that his shaking had calmed a bit, but it was still very much present. It wasn’t right. Spike had never shaken with fear over anything before. Torture from a Hell God couldn’t bring him to this level. “Do you have any idea the things that must have been done to him to bring him to this state?” Buffy spoke more so to herself than to anyone else.  
  
“Yes, well…that is a concern.’ Giles looked at her pointedly.   
  
“Will you just say what’s on your mind already? Enough with being cryptic guy. No more obscure speeches and a hostile manner. Just get it out, because there are people in there that need to be taken care of. We could be on the brink of losing this thing, but please let’s take a minute we don’t have, so you can once again get your contempt out on a person who right now can’t defend himself.”   
  
“This is not…” Giles voice trailed off, choosing his words carefully. “The First has made it perfectly clear that Spike is part of a plan on a much larger scale. We don’t know what has been done to him. We don’t know that he’s safe. I know you feel deeply for him, but you must entertain the possibility that he could be triggered again, or worse. The First wanted Spike on It’s side. You cannot allow your feelings for him cloud your judgment.”   
  
Buffy noticed the tension that filled Spike’s body, the accusing look that he held on his face directed at The Watcher. What she didn’t notice was how tense Angel had gone too. The accusing eyes the he held on her.  
  
Buffy had it. She was done standing out in the cold of the night. She was done with Giles intense stare along with the tone that was clearly disturbing Spike. She was just done. She pushed Giles out of the way and glared at him. “Then you can go.”  
  
“What?” Giles looked bewildered.  
  
“Spike is going to be taken downstairs where he can be cared for. His recuperation will be a priority. If you can’t handle that then you can go. If you can deal, then you can figure out exactly what this thing is.” She held out the object she had collected from Caleb to him. “Deal or don’t. Either way, it’s not my problem.”  
  
Giles studied her with obvious displeasure, but took the weapon from her. “Where did you get it?”  
  
Buffy folded her arms. “Compliments of the Vineyard.” She turned sharply and headed for the living from, leaving a dumbfounded Giles.   
  
Now, that had felt good!  
  
It wasn’t long before Buffy found herself among the hustle and bustle that was taking place in her living room. It was hectic, but there was a somber air that everyone held. The tone set due to their fallen leader and warriors. It hit her again. Faith was gone. They had never been friends. They had only been able to get along for five minutes, if even that. Still, Buffy felt a new fire in her. It wasn’t a longing for vengeance. No. She wanted justice.   
  
Giles had practically implicated that her only desire was to protect Spike, but he was far off the mark. He would see that. No one here cared more than she did about the safety of the potentials. No one knew how much she agonized every minute of every day over leading them into battle, leading them to what would be some of their graves. What that meant and what she was going to do was yet to be seen, but something was to be done.  
  
She moved about the rooms, checking to the extent of the girls’ injuries, seeing what was left of the army that she had formed. It was a brutal sight to see. She knew that it was going to be, but no matter how much someone prepares themselves for a gruesome sight, their stomach can’t help but flipping. As she turned for the doorway she came face to face with Willow. Slowly, she straightened up.  
  
“Hey, Will…”  
  
“You’re back…”Willow wanted to sound chipper, but she couldn’t. She was happy to see Buffy, but she had been part of that mutiny. A mutiny that had only led to death. Funny. That’s exactly what they had all been trying to avoid.  
  
“Maybe. For now. I don’t know. At least till the girls are stable. Spike isn’t doing so well either…”   
  
“Oh! You found Spike.” Now Willow did sound chipper. Buffy at least deserved that much from her friend.  
  
“I found a few things.”  
  
“Really. Well, then, what did you…what did you find?”  
  
Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. “Some weapon. Scared Caleb straight. Killed him too. I don’t know. Giles is looking into it.” Buffy stated dismissively.   
  
“Wait! You killed Caleb!” Willow’s eyes widened in disbelief.   
  
“Yeah. Well, I should check on Spike. There are patients on every floor it seems…”  
  
“We took a pretty big hit here.” Willow’s voice was disappointed; more in herself than in Buffy.  
  
“I know, Will.” Buffy’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “I know…” With that, she turned for the stairs.  
  
“Buffy…”Willow called out after her.  
  
Buffy looked to see Willow, who stood apologetically. This was the last thing she could deal with. “Don’t. Not now…Just don’t…” Buffy left the room promptly and made her way to the basement.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Spike wouldn’t open his mouth. Angel had only left him for a few moments, so he could get a bag of blood made up for him. However, now that they were settled on the cot in the basement, Angel sitting on the side, with Spike propped up on some pillows Angel had also managed to gather together, Spike’s hunger seemed to have flown out the window. 

  
“Come on, Buddy.” Angel encouraged as he let the mug hover in front of his grand-childe’s mouth. “Smells good, right?”  
  
Spike only lifted an eyebrow at him.   
  
Buffy quietly made her way down the basement stairs to find Spike on a mountain of pillows with a gentle sheet lying over his bare injured skin, while Angel failed at giving him dinner.   
  
“What are you doing?” Buffy stepped forward with an expression on her face that told Angel how moronic he was.  
  
Angel aimed a similar expression in her direction. “What does it look like I’m doing?”  
  
“He’s covered in wounds. He needs to be treated. Cleaned!” Buffy reached the cot, seeing Spike tense from the tone her voice had taken. She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak evenly. “I just think blood can wait.”  
  
Angel shook his head. “It’s a good thing I’m here. You really do need me.” His eyes fell back on Spike.   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buffy folded her arms impatiently.   
  
Angel’s gaze met hers once again in slight disbelief. “He’s a vampire, Buffy. That’s what I mean. His wounds, uncomfortable yeah, but they’re not going to get infected. They can’t kill him. Lack of blood, that’ll dust him. Now, we can do it your way. Bandage him up, but by the time you’re done soaking him in a bath, you may not have much left to work with.”  
  
“Oh.” Buffy felt dumb.  
  
Angel returned to the task at hand. Blood to Spike’s mouth, and again, him whipping his head away from the warm sticky liquid.  
  
“Come on…” Angel somehow managed to keep the edge out of his voice.  
  
“Is that pig’s blood?” Buffy inquired.  
  
“Yeah. Had some on me for the ride from LA. Why?”  
  
“He’s not going to heal nearly as quickly by animal’s blood. Plus, if you’re so worried that he could dust soon, well, we should be giving him something stronger…” Buffy explained.   
  
“He won’t drink from me.” Angel pointed out. “He ripped his fangs out of me the second he found out I didn’t mind his feeding from me.” It seemed that even in Spike’s weakened state, spiting Angel was his first priority.   
  
“I know.” Buffy stated simply, but it was clear there was an implication hidden behind those words.  
  
“No!” Angel reacted, catching on to her intention.   
  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
“I can’t believe this happened.” Willow sighed to herself as she changed one of the potentials bandages. She still hadn’t regained consciousness. She probably never would.  
  
Giles sat on the couch with a few books spread out in front of him on the coffee table. The weapon Buffy had retrieved at his side. The caretaking had calmed down for the most part. There was much more room in the living now than only hours before. He felt it best to be among their patients in case of any needed assistance while he did his work. The progress they had made in treatment certainly provided room for it. However, it seemed that his assistance of the mind was more needed than of the body. In this case, it wasn’t one of the potentials. It was Willow who was in need.  
  
“Well. In war you always have casualties. It doesn’t ever make it right, but it’s to be expected.”  
  
“I don’t mean that.” Willow spoke in a sulky voice. “Okay, well there’s that. It’s everything. I mean, Faith is dead. Our potentials number has taken a hit. And…”Willow’s voice trailed off.  
  
“And what?” Giles pushed her.  
  
Willow spoke softly, willing the words away, but forcing undesired honesty anyway. “Maybe it could have been prevented.”  
  
“You mean, Buffy.” Giles filled in the blank. “If we had Buffy not as many lives would have been lost?”  
  
“Or any.” Willow sighed as she finished up the bandaging. “Buffy got not only whatever that weapony thing is, but Spike back too with Angel as her only help. All of us behind her…Faith would still be here. They all would still be here.”  
  
“We had our reasons for our actions.”  
  
“Yeah, and we were wrong.” A voice came from the doorway.  
  
Willow and Giles head turned simultaneously in the direction where the outburst had occurred only to find an eavesdropping Dawn.   
  
“Dawnie…” Willow started, but wasn’t quite sure how to follow. She was right. They had messed up majorly.   
  
“I did that to my own sister. Look where it got all of us!”  
  
“Dawn, it will be alright.” Giles started, but was cut off.   
  
“How? People are dead. All I’ve heard Buffy talk about since this whole thing started was that we needed power. Now, it’s like we handed it away. Faith is gone. Some of the potentials are gone. Spike, I haven’t seen, but it doesn’t sound like he’s in great condition. We’re down really powerful warriors; not to mention Xander being in the hospital. The First is only getting stronger and the worst part is that I was the one who kicked my sister out. I betrayed her. For this!” Dawn leaned against the doorframe with a sigh, feeling defeated.  
  
“Not all is lost.” Giles tried to be reassuring. “We do have this…this weapon. It seems to be of great use. We may have taken a blow, but we haven’t handed over victory yet.”  
  
“If it helps at all, Xander’s finally being released. He’s coming back tomorrow, in fact.” Willow tried to say this with a smile. It was difficult, because the point Dawn was making was the very point that she had started to make only moments before the younger Summers had joined them.  
  
“Great.” Dawn tried to sound enthused, but instead it came out rather sarcastic. “I’m glad he’s coming home...” She clarified.   
  
“There’s just a lot more damage here than we may be able to deal with.” Willow finished her statement for her, though she was fairly certain it was a feeling they were all sharing.

  
“Right.” Dawn agreed.  
  
“Well, our pride is wounded and feelings have been hurt, but we’ll just have to push on.” Giles chimed in encouragingly.  
  
“Push on? That’s what all these years of experience you have on us have given you? Push on?” Dawn eyed him.  
  
Giles rolled his eyes. “We’ve been in impossible situations before and we’ve always come through. There’s no reason to give up hope when there is hope yet to be worked with.” He held up the weapon. “Now, I say we research.”  
  
***************************************************  
  
“No? No to what?” Buffy looked at him with forced confusion.  
  
“You know what I’m saying no to. Don’t give me that look. I know you and I know what you’re thinking.” Angel was on the verge of growling. He couldn’t allow for what was very likely to happen to happen. He couldn’t watch this, especially after what he had heard from Giles. It was struggle enough not to lose his head on Spike over that. Buffy. Her deep feelings for him. As much as he wanted to go into denial about such a thing, be blind over what was right in front of him, everything he had been seeing with these two were adding up. Spike and Buffy. Together. At least at some point. He was keeping his emotions under control surprisingly well, but this…what she was offering to do…he couldn’t guarantee that he could continue to be strong if this occurred.   
  
“Slayer’s blood seems to be our only choice.” Not that it really needed to be a last resort for her to give it up to him. She decided to keep that little fact to herself.

  
“It’s not our only choice.” Angel held up the pig’s blood.

  
“Angel! You said it yourself. He’s in danger of dying. Arguing about it is only bringing him one step closer to death. And I'm not going to allow that!”  
  
Angel got up from the cot, took a step towards her and reached out for her "Doing this is gonna get you one step closer to death. And I'm not going to allow that!"  
  
Buffy evaded his grasp and climbed up into Spike's bed. It was all about positioning herself correctly in a way that wasn’t going to hurt him. Position herself, that was a good idea, he was too beaten up to move safely. Herself on the other hand, well she could maneuver herself quite easily. Lying down in front of him, she rested her head against the pillows, letting her neck match up to his fangs evenly. The only thing he would have to do is move his head forward a bit. It seemed that was the only part of his body he could move without causing any more damage. Once she was in position, she shot Angel a stare that made it only too clear that he could only dare to try and stop what was about to take place.  
  
Buffy gazed down at Spike patiently, waiting for his face to shift, and for his fangs to pierce her skin. After several moments it became apparent that he had no plans to do. “You can change now. It’s okay. We need to get you healthy.”  
  
Spike wasn't going to. He didn’t feel hungry. His stomach ached just like everything else. Maybe it ached, because he was hungry, but the thought of blood did nothing for him. He just wanted to be left alone. He was so tired of being picked at. Angel had shoved the mug filled with the red annoyance in front of him, but again, it did nothing for him. He remembered how much he had once longed for it. How tempting it was to drink the few times Wood had pushed it in his face. How irresistible and how delicious it had been every time he'd given in to the craving, and gulped it down. Then came the surgery. Now, well, he only had memories of smell. Even tastes felt different. And he didn’t feel like taking what Angel offered him.  

 

And this, this was Buffy. She was so much more than just food to him. A gentle look or touch was enough to put him on cloud nine for days. The last thing he wanted was to do anything that could ever harm her. He didn’t understand what possessed her to even offer it up. Despite the brute’s protest and he had to believe that meant something. But what? He wanted to ask, but his voice refused him. Instead, he just gave her a pointed look, and kept his fangs well sheathed. In the same moment, Angel came up and made to pull her out of the bed again.  
  
"Oh, come on!" Buffy moaned in annoyance. She seriously never thought she'd see her two vampires agreeing on something. Perhaps that ought to be an omen? If so, it was one she wouldn't heed. But hey, the discord and rivalry that marked her two vampires, maybe that was the key to this? She turned towards Angel, a plan forming in her mind. "Don't try to stop me" she said, firmly. "Or I'll kick your ass as badly as I did to get the chance to save your life this way, back when it was us lying like this." She smiled. "Despites everything that happened afterwards, I'd do all that again in a heartbeat, to keep you healthy." Angel tensed up, but Buffy just gave him the most radiant smile she could muster, and then kept going, directed at Spike now. "Too shame you're hurt even worse than he was back then, so that I can't really hit you. Can I just say please? Please don't worry about me. I want this!" She turned her gaze to Angel again, and smiled warmly, continuing her plea with a voice thick with yearning. "I know all too well what a great experience it can be."   
  
What? Buffy had already let the Great Poof bite her like this? The thought was nearly more than Spike could bear. His eyes searched the neck she was holding up to him, and true enough, there it was, the proof that he needed. The unmistakable scars of a pair of fangs that very well could belong to his grandsire. He was relieved to see the scar were quite healed, and rather old-looking though. At least they hadn't been at it any recently. Still, her fervent talk about how great it had been ... if it was a ploy to goad him on, it was working. He had a claim to stake!  
  
With that, Spike shifted faces, and let his fangs slip into his Golden Goddess’ neck. The flavor that met his lips was unlike anything he had ever tasted before. He had gotten a burst of this sweetness months ago, but the manner in which it had come was less than desirable. Still, he would be a liar if he didn’t admit to himself that the taste of her had haunted him from that very moment on. It wasn’t just Slayer’s blood. Yes, the blood of the slayer was something worth risking one’s unlife over, but this was even better than that. It was Buffy blood. Her warm comfort filling his mouth, massaging his throat, it was even better than he remembered. He was completely lost in her. Suddenly, he didn’t remember where he was or where he had been. He wasn’t even entirely sure of who he was anymore. He only knew one thing to be certain. In this moment, she was his and he was hers. This wasn’t the blood, as strong as an aphrodisiac as it could be, it wasn’t responsible for this current union that held so much more than any sexual encounter ever could. No, it was something much stronger than that; the binding depths of trust.   
  
Buffy gripped down at the bed sheet. She wanted to squeeze Spike himself, but his injuries prevented any more physical contact. Her breath was stolen away by him; a sensation filling her body with so much excitement that she hadn’t expected to come of this. She longed for more than just a bite. More and more she longed for him. His mouth on her felt just right. It almost felt as though she were floating, bliss running through her veins, truly, it was a feeling that was indescribable. It made her realize how much the things she had just said wasn't just a ploy to goad him. She had meant it, more than she even thought she did.  
  
Spike. Her heart fluttered just at the thought of his name. It was a feeling that in the past she never imagined she would ever feel towards him, but it was the truth. For the longest time all he had been was a pain that had taken up residence in her town. The idea of his fangs on her neck wouldn’t have done anything to her, well other than gross her out, if she was being completely honest with herself. Back then she had seen him as just another evil vampire with poor taste in fashion. Later on, the idea of being bitten by a vampire had come to mean something new to her. She had gotten feelings from it, but not in the romantic sense. It could be a death sentence, her death sentence, and one that she had longed for at a certain time. When she kissed Spike the year prior, he was the only one who could make her feel anything, and she knew how dangerous he was without his chip. He could have fooled her. He could have decided that it wasn’t love after all, tricked her into bed one night, and really have had an ulterior motive besides getting a sweet climax with her. He could have wanted his third slayer and he could have had it. The thought was one that she had welcomed. She went from loathing those fangs, to wanting to die by them, to now wanting to bask in them. It was a strange kind of progress, but their relationship had always been anything but ordinary.  
  
She had been wrong before, it wasn’t bliss that was running through her veins, it was him. She was starting to see that it was the same thing. It was confusing for so many reasons, but in that moment what she knew in her head didn’t matter. The fangs of a vampire inserted in The Slayer’s neck, it was crazy, but it filled the holes that had developed in her life. It brought beauty where there was darkness. It gave her power where she felt weak. It had been Spike for years now that had been picking her up when she had fallen down. She had struggled with that in the past considering what he was. It should be wrong. This right here should be wrong. Look at where they had started.   
  
 _What happens Saturday?_  
  
He had looked at her so calmly, but coldly.  _I kill you._  
  
It was that same vampire that she was allowing to suck the blood out of her. She should be disturbed. She should be ready to toss him aside. Yet, that’s not how things felt at all. There was no fear. There was no doubt. It was just Spike. It was just them. There was no wrong here.  _She_  didn’t feel wrong being here. Yes, he had wanted to kill her at the start. Yes, she had wanted him to kill her later on. Yet, it wasn’t like either of those phases of their relationship. This was something new. There was a different feeling burning between them now. It was a feeling that was just now being born. Simply put this sensation that was growing within her felt good. It felt right. It was an intimacy she may never have dreamed of with him, but it was there. It was wonderful. Not only that, but she could help him. He had helped her for so many years; finally, she was able to help him back. She was able to give something back to him when she had rarely ever returned any emotion or gratitude towards him before. Despite that, she could be the one who was doing the saving this time.   
  
She sighed to her inner self. She needed to stop thinking so much. That’s what got her into trouble the most. Buffy brain. It rambled too much. There had been enough speculating on their relationship to last her a lifetime. She felt warm with him. She felt cared for. She cared for him. They were here now. They were sharing something of deep importance and for once she just wanted to feel that. His fangs in her neck, though sharp, gave her a sense of comfort. For the first time it was as though a certain peace coexisted between them. No worries. No fears. No regrets. It was as if they were both right where they belonged. It was the first time she felt as though she had all of him.   
  
They were connected.


	7. Omen

The peace she was feeling was yanked away, literally. She felt strong hands on her, pulling her up, fangs retracting from her neck in the process. It was then that her eyes fell on Angel. He was looking as huffy as ever. She wanted to get mad at him. In fact, she started to get mad at him, but the moment she went to stand up and get in his face, she felt herself tumbling back down on the bed. Once again, his hands were on her, steadying her.

“I told you he’d take too much.” Angel stated accusingly.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “He didn’t take too much.” She put a hand to her head, trying to get the room to stop spinning before speaking again. “If he took too much I’d be in a hospital. Luckily, history isn’t repeating itself.”

That shut Angel up. Well, really, it pissed him all the more off, but he had to recognize that this was not the time or place to start a shouting match. She needed to be taken care of or she really would wind up in the hospital again. “We need to get something in you. Food. Drink. Just stay right there.” Angel lifted himself off the cot and made his way up towards the kitchen.

Buffy sat in silence. She felt sick inside, but it was of the physical sense. Her spirit was another story. For the first time, in the longest time, she was actually feeling content. Curiosity getting the better of her, she started to glance over her shoulder, wondering how Spike was fairing, himself. Perhaps, maybe he was feeling a bit better now after a meal; one made from her. However, when she made that motion to look over her shoulder; she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Her hands came up over her head again, willing the sickness out of her stomach; she thought she might pass out. Her body had suffered a loss, even if it was of the pleasant kind; her health wasn’t recognizing what her heart knew.

“Buffy, are you okay?” Angel had made his way back downstairs without her noticing.

She had forgotten the golden rule with him. When you think he’s not around, that’s when he usually is. He never disappointed in that department. “I’m okay. I’m fine.” She looked up at him and gave a nod of her head.

“Well, here. I brought you…” He handed her a bottle of coke and a few iron supplement pills he’d found in her kitchen cabinet.

Buffy knew she felt too sick to eat, but she also knew that it was best she got something in her. Still, she started with the coke, eased her stomach into things. After a while, she began to feel a bit better and Angel noticed color returning to her face a bit just from having some fluids put back into her. She shoveled the pills down, finished up the coke, and started to really feel her strength returning to her. She gave Angel a small smile. “Thank you.” She said before standing up.

Her eyes fell on Spike and her neck immediately tingled with the reminder of what had just taken place. She was okay with it. She didn’t want to run anymore. She no longer was interested in becoming intimate with him and then taking off the second their physical connection had been made. In the past, a feeling like this would have scared her. It would have had her questioning her own sanity, but Spike was a good man now, a conclusion she was comfortable with. It was a conclusion that she had been standing by for months now. The only difference in that time was that now she felt as though a seed of him had been planted inside of her, and this time she was going to get let it grow, blossom, and the thought couldn’t help but make her smile.

She had to force her mind off the subject. She needed to get him better and to do that he needed to have a bath. He was desperately in need of one. The idea of a naked Spike was something that she was still a little uneasy with. There was too much turmoil from before that still weighed heavily on her mind. Plus, the idea of what had been done to his naked body that made her stomach turn. He was emaciated, though she knew her blood was going to help with that, and he was also covered with countless injuries. The worst of which was the surgery scar that was out for display. She saw that mark and she thought of the pain that he must have gone through. She prayed he had passed out before feeling too much. Of course, the thought of him waking up without the ability to breathe was enough to disturb her. He had never quite kicked the habit. She had noticed this and though it was odd, but it was part of who he was. Finding out that such a thing that had been a part of him were gone…she couldn’t think about this right now. She needed to gather up her supplies and clean him, because that would make him feel better. She needed to make him feel better. He at least deserved to be comfortable.

Once forcing her mind to remain on the subject, she went out and quickly collected supplies that he would need. There was no way that she could get him to sit in a bath. It was too rough on his injuries, besides carrying him up there would a painful task in and of itself, so that was quickly ruled out. A sponge bath seemed to be the only logical thing that would do the trick. She grabbed up a basin and filled it with warm water, grabbing washcloths and towel to help. She quickly grabbed up some shampoo for his hair and they were ready to go.

After making her way back into the basement, she placed the basin of water down on the floor and with a question in mind she turned to Angel. “Should we bandage him? After his bath. Vampires. You’re not ones for getting infections.”

Angel considered this for a moment. “Not right away. The air will help him heal. After though. Give it a day or two. The bandages will give a barrier between his wounds and anything he might rub up against. But vampire wounds do heal quicker than human ones. If we were to put bandages on now, before all his wounds have closed properly, they’d have to be changed wicked often, to avoid getting stuck.”

“And what about his broken bones? Should we try to set them?” she asked helplessly. ”I don’t exactly know how to do that, and it’s not like we have an x-ray machine…”

Angel took Spike’s hand in his, and felt out the fractures. “No.” he decided, pensively. “It’s already been too long since they’ve been broken. Setting them now would require rebreaking them, and that would cause him more pain than it’s worth. It will take longer, but they will eventually find their right place on their own.”

Buffy nodded her head, and gave an unusually grateful thought to the effectiveness of vampire healing, before she got on her knees to begin the slow process of his bath. “Spike, it’s time for your bath. I promise it’s going to make you feel a lot better.”

Spike responded with a raised eyebrow before closing his eyes once more.

Angel, who had been leaning against the railing of the stairs, rolled his eyes. This was getting more and more ridiculous by the minute. First, she lets him rip into her neck, causing her to practically pass out. Now, she’s tending to him as though he were a helpless child. Okay, so at the moment he was pretty helpless, but this wasn’t necessary. That was something they both knew. It wasn’t like it was really going to help his wounds anymore. They might heal a bit faster if cleaned, but the difference would not be that significant. His wounds would heal, he would get stronger, and that would be due to feeding properly, not from a good scrubbing. It’d make him smell better, sure, but that was about the only thing that was going to come of it. It was Buffy that was being helped right now, not him. She couldn’t keep her hands off him and he was about ready to shove her aside and insist that the only person that should be taking care of a vampire is another vampire. He knew that wasn’t going to go over very well. It was probably better that he didn’t do anything. It was better that he leave it to her, because the way he was feeling, he probably wouldn’t make for a very good caretaker right now. He also recognized that the bleach blonde in an odd way was very lucky to be in the condition that he was in, because had he found this out while he was well, Angel would probably have staked him on sight.

As Buffy lifted up the sheet that covered Spike’s damaged body, both Angel and she winced at the sight, unaware of their identical reaction. It didn’t matter that they had already seen it before; it was something that no one could get used to looking at. Angel took it back in that moment, there was nothing about his beaten up body that made him lucky. He was unhappy with the circumstance, he couldn’t begin to understand what Buffy could have possibly seen in him that would make her want his hands all over her, but he’d much rather have it out with Spike, who had a healthy body, than have him in this condition. No one deserved to be in this condition. However, he couldn’t promise himself that once his grand-childe was well that they wouldn’t have it out anyway. He couldn’t promise himself anything when it came to Spike.

With the washcloth now dipped in warm water, Buffy gently ran it along Spike’s body to take off the muck that had collected over the course of his absence. She knew that it was going to take going over his body more than once to do a thorough job, but for as long as it took she was going to be at it until he was clean. However, the injuries made it difficult. She figured they would heal faster if they were clean. Vampires weren’t known for getting infections, but the sooner the wounds were gone, the better. This would certainly make it happen all the sooner. He did seem to be enjoying the washing that he was getting. He couldn’t make a sound, even though that was still unsettling, the look on his face was comforting as well. He seemed a bit more at peace than he had been and she thought he might moan with pleasure if he had the ability to. For now, she just went over the parts of his body that were smooth, getting him used to the water, making sure that touch was soft and gentle. She was trying to help make him feel better, not hurt him worse.

When it was time to start going over his injuries; she dipped the washcloth back in warm water, and then carefully went over countless wounds. He tensed for a moment and this was to be expected. His reactions to the warm water varied as the wounds did themselves. There were moments where it seemed peace was coming over his body, something that had been throbbing, now cleaned out, and it couldn’t have felt better. Other times, he tensed a bit more, clearly not caring for the touching of a particularly sore area. Even so, she knew that it was going to feel all the better after. He never fought her. It didn’t seem that he wanted to either. It was all part of medical care and he understood this.

“Alright, it’s time to do your back.” Buffy spoke. She wanted to let him know what she was doing when she was doing it. She figured he had spent enough time in the dark over what was coming to him.

Spike didn’t really react, but she knew that he heard her. She bent forward, getting a good look at his injures, letting the washcloth over him.

Spike shut his eyes immediately on contact. This was the worst that it had felt since she had begun. He knew that certain areas were going to feel more uncomfortable than others. For the most part, he had actually enjoyed the cleaning that he had been given. He was starting to feel a bit better because of it. Now, well at the moment it felt like torture in itself. How long was she going to wash him for anyway? Hadn’t he been poked at enough already? He was back to wanting to be left alone, for the burning to stop, for a sense of peace and quiet to return. Why couldn’t anyone leave him alone?

It wasn’t hard to notice the distress on his face and she hated being the cause of it. How much pain could one person take? “I’m sorry, Spike.” She spoke softly. “I know this hurts and I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you already have been, but this will heal faster in the long run. It’ll feel a lot better then.” She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, caressing it gently, comfortingly for a moment. Then she set back to work.

The lacerations that she was looking at now, they weren’t lost on her, not by any means. Truth be told, she was trying not to look directly at them. He had been flayed alive, and what skin had returned to the area was still paper thin and vulnerable. Anger was rising, but if she let it surface she was going to lose her gentle touch, and that was one thing he needed more than anything right now. Chunks of skin were missing from his back and she had to keep calm over this. How? Right about now would have been a good time for someone else to take over, but it was all too clear that she didn’t have any help in this. It was childish, but what else could she expect?

She looked over at the water in the basin and noticed that it had turned a dark shade of brown. It was to the point that it would dirty him up more than get him clean. She glanced over her shoulder at Angel. “Mind getting me more water? Actually, I need a few things. A cup, so I can wash his hair and a pot to catch the water in.” Yes, he wasn’t her hands on help right now, but he could at least do this for her.

Angel didn’t budge. “What? Need a moment alone with him? That how long it takes?”

Buffy rolled her eyes before muttering under her breath. “So don’t have time for this.” She covered Spike back up with a light sheet, grabbed up the basin of water, and went to the kitchen.

Spike, alone with his thoughts for a moment, despite not really being quite so alone in the room, fell right into them. The stinging in his back was dying down now, his body was feeling a bit better, but his feeling physically better didn’t take away the ache in his stomach of worry and anxiety. Had he been with Buffy? He hadn’t been with her been with her, but they had shared a connection that was not to be taken lightly. She had willingly given herself over to him. He should feel great about that, except for the small fact that he didn’t. Yes, it meant something. He wasn’t blind to this. She obviously knew the seriousness of what it meant, because she had done it with _him_ before. She had given up her neck to Fancy Nancy once and had made sure to be damn clear about it, about their relationship. He wasn’t surprised. Of course he wasn’t. They had been together for a long time. Spike was the newer connection, so that should have been that. He should have felt ahead. He should have felt as though he had taken her heart and been amused that Angel had to watch as he did so. More than that, he should have felt loved, wanted, and desired. He didn’t.

He never seemed to be quite enough for anyone. Cecily, it seemed, wanted anyone but William. Drusilla had always wanted Angelus. Sure, he was good when Angelus wasn’t around, but the minute he did show his face, it was very clear who Dru had favored. She never tossed him to the side, oh she’d have both of them if she could, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t obvious who she favored. Then, there was Buffy. Angel always had her heart. He thought that he was starting to mean something to her. No, that wasn’t fair. He did mean something to her. He knew that he did. Here she was carefully washing him, trying to ease his pain, she wanted him better. That meant something. It just didn’t mean what he had hoped it would mean. How could it? Angel was right there watching. He was watching with a glare, but he was still present. He was part of her life. It was what she wanted. Him. She couldn’t get over him. It didn’t matter what Spike did or how much he changed. He was never enough. Always second place. There was only one woman he had ever been first to and that was his mother. See how well that worked out? He bit the inside of his mouth, keeping tears from forming; perhaps it was best that he stayed second to Buffy. He only wished that she’d find someone better than pouncy Angel over there, but as a whole, he himself, he wasn’t worth much. He hadn’t been as William. Everyone knew that. He wasn’t now. Everyone knew that too.

As Buffy made her way back downstairs, she placed the cup of water along with the empty pot down by the bed. That’s when she noticed Spike’s sudden mouth chewing. For that, she didn’t start in on his hair right away. He seemed to need a moment to himself as she figured his back was the source of his unease. With the time she was giving him, she started getting everything in place. She made her way back upstairs, having left the basin of refilled water on the counter; it was all too much for one trip. Once she returned she knew that it was time to maneuver him into the needed position for washing his hair. She wanted to sigh, not bothered by the care itself, but the pain that it would cause him. He may be cleaned up, but wounds still hurt when aggravated. No amount of washing him was going to change that. The thought of adding to his misery more than upset her. Still, she kept any unpleasant feelings she was having to herself. He needed her to be his rock and that’s exactly what she was going to do. Very gently, she began to position him in a fashion where he could continue to lay comfortably; however, this process was proving to very uncomfortable in and of itself. She was surprised that his teeth weren’t going through his bottom lip that he was chewing on so hard. If he had the ability to move his hands they would have been balled into fists. Then again, due to the pain, he might actually use them to push her away, and she couldn’t say she would blame him one bit for it. Once she had him rearranged, she carefully peeled the sheet off of his body for the second time. Her eyes met Spike’s, who was eying her curiously.

“I just need to go over a few more areas. Some areas I couldn’t reach as well on your back. And some of your worse wounds could probably use an extra scrubbing.” Buffy realized the indication of her words. Bad choice of words, Buffy. “By scrub, I don’t mean scrub. I mean wash. Gentle. See?” She placed the soft washcloth against his upper arm, showing him that there would be no harsh scrubbing movements. He probably knew what she meant, but having been gone for; well she wasn’t sure how long, he might now take things very literally. She did not want to be associated with more pain.

Spike simply gazed at her. There was no real expression on his face now that he had calmed down from the maneuvering that had occurred.

It was hard for her to read him. She expected him to react more at the idea of his getting his back washed again, but then maybe pain was something he had come to expect. She didn’t like the thought of that. After this, no more pain for him. Just rest. Lots and lots of rest.

“It might sting a little, but I’m not doing it on purpose. You know that, right?”

Spike didn’t respond for a moment. Her heart started to drop into her stomach, but then she noticed him give a gentle nod of his head. That was a relief. She couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his head. She had had a taste of a time without communication in the past and remembered how frustrating it had been. It’s even more frustrating when someone you care about is in pain.

Buffy gave him a soft smile and set to work. She began running the washcloth over his body once again, her focus mostly on his back as he was now positioned so that she could have much easier access to it. He immediately closed his eyes tightly, the washcloth hitting on the raw areas of his back that been too low for her to reach. He wanted yell out; he would have yelled out if he had the opportunity, and that’s what made the whole thing so much worse. His eyes began to water at the feeling that was a torture in itself. This was supposed to help him, but instead it made him feel worse. Why couldn’t she be done yet? Why wasn’t being washed once through good enough? So a few parts of his back were dirty? So what?

He wasn’t really mad at her, he knew this, but he desperately wanted her to be through with him for the night. He never thought he’d see the day when he actually wanted Buffy to care for him a little less. Instead, she was doing a very thorough job, and this was a fact that was impossible to be lost on him.

“Dear Lord”

Giles stood on the stairs with the weapon Buffy had claimed earlier, having just found information on what it was. However, that information took a back seat the minute his eyes fell on the vampire being washed. The massive wounds that had taken over his body, the sores, and the pain. He was all torn skin and broken bones. There was so much pain on his face from simply having a washcloth run over him! Giles was stunned speechless. He had known that Spike was in bad condition when he had first arrived, but having not seen the extent of his injuries, he would never have guessed that he was this bad off. He didn’t say a word; he stepped off the stairs, but didn’t approach Buffy. This could wait till she was done.

It was time to get started on his hair. She hardly had time to glance up and acknowledge Giles’s presence. One thing at a time. Right now, his hair, next she could deal with her less than reasonable Watcher. She gently ran some of the warm water over his head, wetting his hair. Shampoo in her hands, she carefully started to massage his scalp with the shampoo, and it was then that she felt his head leaning into her hands. It seemed as though someone liked the feeling of this very much. That alone helped bring a smile to her face.

She continued to really work the shampoo into Spike’s scalp. So, she moved her hands up and down his neck, she really massaged that scalp from all angles. At times, he tensed, and she could feel why. There were spots that were in definite need of healing. One area had a lump; it felt as though it had been banged into something hard, probably repeatedly. It seemed his suffering never ended, but for the most part he was doing okay with this washing. As long as she avoided his more tender areas, he might have even been close to smiling. The shampoo-water mix dripped down into the pot as another cup of warm liquid spilled over Spike’s head. Buffy gently adjusted his head again so that it was tilted back, keeping the water from spilling forward. When the water had finished rolling off his head, his eyes poured into Buffy’s, almost pleading. He was tired; physically and emotionally. He needed to rest. Hell, she needed to rest, so she couldn’t imagine how worn down he was by this point. “We’re almost finished. Just warm water from now on. I have to make sure all the shampoo is out.”

The warm water did feel nice against his scalp, but the hair washing was coming to an end. Buffy took a warm towel and ran it over his head, squeezing out excess water so his head wouldn’t be too soaked. She then laid another dry towel over his pillows that he could lay back against. He smiled softly to himself when she put the light sheet back over his cleansed body. He would never take for granted the comfort of a sheet again. It wasn’t quite a blanket, but it was more than he had had in a long time. He closed his eyes, resting them, his mind not letting him sleep just yet. Buffy and Angel, together, the image wouldn’t stop nagging at him.

******************************************************************************

After collecting the bath supplies, Buffy turned towards the stairs, only stopping long enough to share a look with Angel that indicated his staying with Spike. Once she was up the stairs, Giles following along behind her, she shut the basement door, so they could have a private conversation.

“How is he doing?” Giles inquired.

“Do you care?” Buffy eyed him.

Giles sighed. “It’s true that Spike and I have had our differences in the past.”

Buffy raised both her eyebrows at him.

“I’m not fond of the prospect of you getting too close to vampires as a whole, but yes, I do feel for him. It disturbs me to see him in such a terrible state.”

“I don’t know what to do, Giles. He’s in constant agony. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. I tried cleaning him up in order to make him feel better, but I could tell that the only reason why he didn’t yell at times was because he couldn’t.” Buffy sighed.

“Why couldn’t he?” Giles looked at her confused.

Buffy heaved a sigh. “He can’t talk. He can’t make a sound. They made sure of it. It’s so eerie. Spike. Quiet.”

Giles grinned. “I imagine that alone is painful for him.”

Buffy shared his grin for a moment before a serious look fell over her face again. “I just don’t want him to be in pain. He’s had enough of that. I knew that he needed to be helped after the last time I found him, but the condition that I found him in then, compared to now…and a person did this! What kind of a person could inflict such pain on someone else?”

Giles didn’t respond and the truth was Buffy wasn’t expecting a response. There was no answer that could be given to that question that she didn’t already know. The fact that someone was crazy didn’t ease her own pain. So, they stood there in silence, taking the sight they had both seen in, really processing it for the first time.

“Perhaps…”

Buffy looked up as Giles began to speak.

“Perhaps, it would be best if he didn’t have to suffer.”

“Well, yeah. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. If you’ve got any suggestions, I’m all ears.”

Giles cleared his throat as he chose his next words carefully. “I mean, someone like Spike doesn’t have to suffer. After having a look at him I’m starting to believe that a simple staking would be more humane.”

A look of fury fell over her face as she stared at Giles in disbelief. Here she was confiding in him and the best thing he had to say was, Go on. Get the shotgun. Old Yeller’s in the barn. Oh, she was not going to put up with this. She was getting sick and tired of everyone’s petty attitude. More than that, she was getting fed up with people still treating Spike as though he was less than human. “Excuse me?”

“I had a feeling you weren’t going to take such a suggestion very well, but you have to understand if he were a human he’d have long since died from the wounds that he’s been inflicted with. It’s mere torture keeping him alive.”

Buffy took a challenging step forward. “If I weren’t the Slayer I would have died a lot more than two times by now.” She stared at him in disbelief. “So, that’s what this is really about. Your concern. It’s just a nice way to hide your contempt for Spike. Get what you want, right? Kill him. That’s what you’ve been all about. I bet it’s the real reason why you were against me going to find him to begin with. He was gone. Out of our lives. Problem solved!”

“Buffy, that’s not true.” Giles spoke evenly. “I understand how it could appear that way, but it is not the case. The condition Spike is in is far more painful than anything anyone should ever have to deal with. It might be better for all parties considered, especially Spike, if he doesn’t have to go through such a terrible ordeal.”

“All parties considered? Like who? Me? You? There’s a war on, we have time to take care of the countless casualties that are laid out in Hospital Buffy, but we don’t have time to tend to Spike? Let me guess why. Oh, could it be because he’s a vampire?” Buffy glared at him. “Hypothetically, what if that was me. Maybe not all of his injuries, but a good enough amount. I can take a lot more than most people, so what if I were laying down there? Would you say the same thing? It’s more than most people have to deal with, so I shouldn’t be bothered being helped. More humane that way?”

“It’s different with a human, Buffy. It just is! A vampire goes missing no one questions it. A human goes missing and there are problems. Besides…”Giles voice trailed off.

“Besides, what?”

Giles didn’t respond, but rather looked away instead.

“No, go on, Giles. Besides, what?” Buffy’s voice grew firmer. “Besides, what?”

Giles whipped his head towards her. “I care deeply for you. I could never let you die.”

Buffy gave him a knowing look. “I care deeply for him. I could never let him die. Human or not. Vampire or not. He’s important to me. And I will not let anything happen to him again. As long as he’s still here and not a pile of dust he could get better. He could go about his unlife and live forever. A forever that he’ll have more than this tiny blimp of pain in. If you come at him with a stake I will stop you.”

Giles stared at her dumbfounded, knowing a threat when he heard one, but chose not to say anything.

“Now, tell me about that weapon.” Buffy’s tone lightened as her eyes fell on the weapon she had brought back. This conversation was over. It was one never to be had again.

*****************************************************************************

The smoke had cleared and Dawn figured now was as good a time as any to peak down at Spike. She didn’t know if he was taking visitors yet, but if she were going to see him this was her chance, when her sister was too preoccupied with Giles to notice. She didn’t know what she was walking into or if she even wanted to walk into it. She couldn’t unsee anything that she saw down there. She just hoped that his guts were on the inside where they belonged. Hopefully that had been what Buffy was doing down here, making sure his guts were intact, along with any other nasty sights that might be unpleasant to look at.

As she quietly climbed down the stairs, careful to make sure she didn’t wake him if he had already drifted off, she spotted Angel by the railing. If only she could get rid of him too. She had never taken to her sister’s first boyfriend, or at least the first serious one. He had made her cry a lot. That was something that stuck out the most to her. It was as though the world was always ending with these two. She was older now though, she knew love was more complicated than that, though the only love she had ever really experienced had been under a love spell. Still, the past was the past. Wasn’t that the whole point of her visit with Spike? The past being the past, bygones, and simply wanting her friend back?

Dawn stepped onto the cold hard ground of the basement floor, her eyes meeting Angel’s, expecting him to protest her being down there. He didn’t. His gaze only fell back on Spike. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she knew that he was brooding. Probably over Buffy and Spike, that was her theory, and she couldn’t help but feel slight satisfaction from it, even if the two of them weren’t really together. Even so, it was kind of nice to see him make assumptions, he was the one who had up and left her sister years before. It probably hurt though, thinking someone you care about was with someone else, having to look at it. Like the flick of a switch, she felt herself feeling sorry for him.

“I can sit with him for a while if you want a break.” Dawn offered softly. The image not being quite so in his face might help and besides she didn’t want an audience for the conversation she was about to have as it was.

Angel nodded before taking to the stairs. He then turned and looked at her. “He can’t speak. He was…He just can’t speak.” Angel bounded up the stairs again leaving her free of the gory details.

Dawn took a deep breath before approaching the cot that Spike was laying in. His eyes were closed, but she could tell that he was still awake. His body was far too tense for someone’s who had been sleeping. “Spike…”

He had heard every word that had been said between The Slayer and her Watcher. It seemed as though these people had a tendency to forget just how far vampire’s hearing really reached. Right now, he was glad for it. Why should he be surprised? These Watchers, they wanted to do him in one way or another. Experiments or a full out dusting. Their hands were dangerous. All of their hands spoke of death. He wasn’t going to be taken out that way, not by them, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He had listened carefully, hoping for something a bit more specific than what he was getting; a plan of some kind, but nothing had come forward. Buffy hadn’t stood for the idea. He knew that she wouldn’t. She wasn’t going to risk herself, spend all that time caring for him, only to let him be taken out back and shot between the eyes. Well, staked in the heart rather, but the point still remained. Now, he lay there contemplating his next move. What a joke. He had to be able to move to make a next move. For now he had to put his trust in those around him to keep the Watcher’s maddening ways away from him. Once he was all healed he’d be able to take care of himself and the Watcher would be wise to steer clear. You could only try to kill a person so many times before they finally took matters into their own hands. Anyone who tried coming after him again wasn’t going to live long enough to see the light of day, even if they were Buffy’s chums.

Spike’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Dawn’s soft voice; his head turned, looking at her with confusion. He hadn’t said hardly two words to her since he had first come back to Sunnydale, once making himself known. He was actually fairly certain that he hadn’t even said two words to her at all. He didn’t hold it against the girl. The only thing he held anything against under those circumstances was himself. If he had been Dawn he wouldn’t have wasted a moment before dousing him in holy water. She hadn’t done that. She wasn’t that type of girl, not unless you made her be, and he knew full well that if he made one more wrong move then that’s who she would become. Bitty Buffy. Always had been for as long as he had known her.

That didn’t explain why she was here now. It wasn’t the first time he had been hurt since the start of this war. The First had done a number on him once before, taken him for a good enough amount of time, and she had paid no mind to it. So, what had changed? Unless her anger had finally reached its breaking point, and she was taking him out when he was too weak to fight.

“I was wondering if you’d mind if I sat with you. For a while at least.” Dawn spoke slowly. There wasn’t a trace of a threat to be found.

Spike’s face only grew more puzzled, but he gave her a nod indicating his acceptance of her. When she sat down beside him there were no words to be spoken. Not at first, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She stared at her hands resting in her lap as if there was something uniquely fascinating about them. Finally, her body shifted a little and her face met his. There were tears in her eyes. As much as she tried to fight them, she couldn’t.

“I hated you after what you did...” There was a quiver in her voice, her arms folded over her chest, a look of anger forming over her features. “I trusted you. I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know any better. I only saw the side of you that listened whenever I needed to talk. I saw the guy that offered up advice. The person who would play cards with me and even saved my life. I never saw…I never bothered to remind myself of the monster that was underneath. I should have. I should have known better, because the only thing that made you different was a piece of metal in your head forcing you to be good. You weren’t good. There was one thing you cared about and that was your needs. Buffy was your need and you took that need despite her own. Evil. You were always so quick to try and remind everyone that you were evil. Well, congratulations, you were right. You were evil.”

He forced himself to look her in the face as she spoke. This time it was real. The words of disgust that were being shot off at him, they were the truth. It wasn’t anyone pretending to be Dawn. It couldn’t be. She had never died. This was for real and it wasn’t anything different than the words that he had been forced to listen to lately. It wasn’t fabrication designed to get under his skin. It was simple facts being stated for him to listen to and she was now proof of this.

“But…”

Spike tilted his head to the side with more curiosity.

Dawn caught the struggle on his face. It wasn’t argumentative. He was taking everything she was throwing at him without complaint. He knew it to be true. It was exactly why she had finally reached the conclusion that she had come to over the time that he had disappeared. “That was then. It was then when you were evil. You have a soul now. The way I remember it, Angel has a soul, but when he doesn’t he’s someone else entirely. It’s not him in the driver’s seat. It’s his demon. He’s not responsible for the actions of his demon. Why should you be?”

Spike’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Nothing could come out. He wasn’t entirely sure that he would have been able to form words had he had the ability in that moment. He was stunned. This was certainly nothing he had heard with The First running the show. He was disgusting and that was that. There was no sticking up for him. A demon. That’s all he was. End of story. Yet Dawn, well she saw something else entirely it seemed.

Her face softened and she gave him a small smile. “I don’t understand why a demon chooses to get a soul. Most don’t. None do. Besides you. But then again, you’ve always been kinda weird.” She smirked at him. “But you did get one. I know that means things are different. I know that I haven’t allowed myself to forgive you even though I knew that. Even when Buffy has. But…you were my friend, you know? And what you did, I never thought you would be so…I never thought you’d do something like that, but you did it. But, it wasn’t you, but it was at the time. It hurts my head just thinking about it. All I know is that I was scared when you went missing. I felt bad for feeling bad for you. I thought that this time…you wouldn’t come back. It had been so long and I just wanted…” She shook her head as fresh tears spilled down her face. “I just wanted my friend back.”

It was just then that she noticed how bad a shape he was actually in. It wasn’t as though she could see much. He was covered up with a sheet, but there were markings covering all over his visible shoulder, he was way too thin, and if it was possible, he was more pale than usual. The sight was enough to make her feel as though her dinner were about to come up, but when her eyes hit the surgical line that ran along his body, just visible above the sheet, she really did feel her food start to move. Clasping a hand over her mouth, her own skin paling now, she stared in horror. “Oh Spike…”

He gave her a dismissive look.

Dawn shook her head. “No. It’s not nothing, Spike. I’ve seen plenty of nothing before and this…this is not nothing!” If there was any doubt in her mind about forgiving him before, it was gone now. He had more than paid for the things that his demon had done. If he were still evil she didn’t doubt that she would feel differently, but here laid someone before her that didn’t deserve what they had gotten. The First was going to pay dearly for this. For the first time, Dawn felt ready for war.

*****************************************************************************

The idea of being sprung from Spike watch was favorable. He felt for his childe, but he also was feeling for himself quite a bit. He’d never understand it and right now he figured it was best to get some distance between him and what he had borne witness to. However, fate had other plans for him. As he was about to go for the front door, get some air, who came down the stairs with a look of news on her face? Not to mention a sharp weapon that made him think twice about leaving before she got to share whatever it was on her mind. Buffy herself. He stopped and looked at her, trying to cover up his impatience, as she stopped in front of him.

“Going somewhere?” Buffy questioned nonchalantly.

“Just grabbing some air.” Angel remarked.

“You’re dead. You don’t need air.” Buffy smirked.

“It still feels nice.” He didn’t crack a smile.

“Well, we found out what this is. Or we have a better idea of it. Progress.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. It’s called a scythe. They forged it by…we don’t know, something about a tomb on unconsecrated ground. I’ve gotta find out what this is, why I have it.”

“And I’m sure you will.” Angel shrugged.

Buffy, taking note of his lack of communication, decided to overlook it. “Is Spike alone?”

“No. Dawn wanted to see him. I decided to give them their privacy.” Angel rolled his eyes. “Better hurry, break up the party, that neck of yours isn’t going to bite itself.”

As Angel made his way for the door once more, he felt a tight grip on his arm, before he whipped back, looking Buffy in the face. “What is your problem?”

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like watching you and your boyfriend get all hot and heavy. Is that alright?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Buffy took a deep breath. Again, this was another thing that she didn’t have time for, but it was also something that she needed to make the time for. If she thought about this logically, if she took a step back and really thought about this from his perspective, what kind of a reaction did she expect him to have? How would she have felt if she had to watch him bite into another woman? There may have been distance between them, but that didn’t mean it had dulled the feelings in their hearts. She had loved him with all her soul years ago and that didn’t get erased just because he more or less had tried to erase himself from her life. It was confusing. She was confused half the time when it came to this subject and it wasn’t something that she had an answer to, yet both of her vampires wanted her to pick a path, and have that be it. The minute she was affectionate or had a kind word for one of them, the other turned into an immature child. It was exhausting, but could she blame them? All she had to do was put herself in their position, the way it must have looked in their eyes, and if she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t pretend as though it wouldn’t hurt her too, or that she wouldn’t behave just as they did if the roles were reversed. “Angel, you said it yourself, he’s hurt worse than anything imaginable. He’s hurt worse than anything you would do as…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, not wanting to go there. “He’s hurt really bad. He needs our help. He needs my help. I don’t know what I’m doing. Everyone looks to me to know exactly what to do. It’s the price of being a slayer. But for longest time, I haven’t had all the answers. I haven’t been able to come up with the plans that are surely going to best the bad guy. It’s a full on war. Victory could go to anyone and that terrifies me. And now, on top of that, I could lose Spike. Who…who is in my heart.”

Angel sighed. “That’ll end well.”

Buffy took a step back, the edge leaving her voice, along with her will to fight this. “And what was the highlight of our relationship? The time you broke up with me or the time I killed you?”

Angel’s body relaxed, taking in her point, his bitterness leaving him little by little. “I told you. You’re not alone in this. I’m here. Fighting on your side. I will help you win. I will help you save as many people going into this as we possibly can.”

Buffy nodded. “I know, but you can’t do that if you’re going to be distracted with worry about motives behind every moment of attention that I give to Spike. War aside, it’s not good for either of us if you take the role of the jealous ex.”

“It’s not that.” Angel began.

“No, that’s exactly what this is. I’m not with Spike. I’m not with anyone right now. My helping him doesn’t diminish what we had, but you have to understand that what we had doesn’t diminish the history that I have with him either. It’s two separate things.” She shook her head. “You know, I always figured there was something wrong with me, ‘cause I never made it work with the men in my life. Maybe I’m not supposed to.”

“Because you’re the Slayer?”

“Because…okay, I’m cookie dough, okay? I'm not done baking yet. I'm not finished becoming... whoever the hell it is I'm gonna turn out to be. I've been looking for someone to make me feel whole, and maybe I just need to be whole. I make it through this, and the next thing, and the next...maybe one day I turn around and realize I'm ready. I'm cookies. And then if I want someone to eat m -- or, to enjoy warm delicious cookie- me, then that's fine. That'll be then. When I'm done.”

“Any thoughts on who might enjoy…do I have to use the cookie analogy?”

Buffy smirked. “I don’t really think that far ahead. That’s kind of the point.”

“I get it.” He shook his head. “I do. Right now, this isn’t about us. It’s about the fate of the world. It’s about him getting better. I’m behind that.”

Buffy gave him a genuine look. “I know you are. I saw it.”

They stood in comfortable silence with one another. Nothing more needed to be said.

******************************************************************************

There had to be pain. He wasn’t acting as if this were the case, but there was no way he could be this riddled in marks and not have pain. She wondered if he was putting up a tough front for her; if really he’d be whimpering if she weren’t here. Oh yeah. He couldn’t speak. Did that mean he couldn’t make noises either? She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Once again, people were keeping things from her. That had a little something to do with why she had wanted to come down here and see him for herself. Besides her concern, she wanted the facts right in front of her; she didn’t want to be shielded. Buffy had gotten better about keeping things from her this past year, but still she was her sister, and sometimes she couldn’t help but go a little over board with the overprotection. It couldn’t be helped. Luckily, Dawn often worked her way around her sister’s coddling if need be. This time she hadn’t really given her sister a chance to coddle her.

It didn’t feel strange to be with Spike after all this time. She thought it might have felt awkward given the circumstances that had taken place that lead him to his soul, but perhaps it was true, time did heal all wounds. Everything had been put out on the table. She had been able to tell him what she was feeling and he had listened, without any other choice, but she remembered Spike and her relationship of the past, so she knew that he would have listened anyway. She also knew that he wasn’t simply avoiding an argument with her because of his lack of being able to speak. It wasn’t that if he had his mouth to run he would have fought for what he had done in the past; show her how he wasn’t to be faulted for this. The broken look on his face had said it all. He blamed him too. However, it wasn’t so black and white as she had decided it was earlier on in the year. This was something she had only recently figured out. Now, after such a terrible ordeal and through another one, she was sitting here with him while speaking words of comfort to him as if nothing had ever happened. It felt natural. It was natural. She had her friend back.

Steps could be heard coming down the basement stairs and she knew immediately that it was Buffy.

“Spike needs his rest.” Dawn heard from behind her.

She turned and looked at her sister, but didn’t say anything. She wanted to speak up, but there were no words that she could form at the moment. The way she had thrown Buffy out of the house when she had been right, the condition that Spike was in now, Dawn wanted to find the words, but were there any words for these things?

Buffy reached for the sheet that had fallen halfway off Spike, carefully tucking it around his injured body. A nice long sleep would do him some good. She highly doubted he had been given the chance at comfortable rest since he had been away.

Dawn, knowing it was time for him to get some shut eye, made her way towards the stairs. Until she could figure out what it was that she needed to say it was probably best she didn’t say anything at all.

Buffy walked a bit closer and gently laid a hand on his arm. “Are you feeling a little better, Spike?”

Spike looked at her for a moment as if thinking on it before giving a nod of his head.

Buffy nodded back at him as she removed the towel covering the pillow as she spoke. “Good. It’s been an eventful day. I think we both could use a good night’s rest.” With that, she climbed up into the bed, and positioned herself next to him, with her face so close up to his that he could feel her breath against his cheeks.

Spike looked at Buffy slightly baffled, but the expression was missed as Buffy was too busy carefully placing herself besides him for a long night’s snuggle. She then looked up at him with more affection than he had ever seen her have. She reached out a hand towards his hair, and started twirling one of his many curls around her fingers. His wild, unruly curls. It made him really wish he had a reflection. He remembered how much he had hated those curls, back when he could see them. And wondered how bad, long and brown, his hair was now. None the less, it felt wonderful to have her touch it. He closed his eyes and really took in the feel of her hands on him. the air of her breath on his face. The steady drum of her heartbeat. He could even feel her blood cursing inside of him, working its way into every part of his broken body, making it stronger and healthier.

Why did she want to snuggle with him? After the point she had made about her and Angel he figured that he probably wouldn’t see her for the rest of the night. She’d be too busy getting her snuggle on with Angel rather than him. Okay, so maybe she’d tuck him in goodnight, but he never in a million years would have expected her to stay. Yet, here she was, with him. After old company of hers had shown up, the same bloke that could make her heart race, much to Spike’s disliking comes into town, and he’s not the one that she spends the night with? It was confusing and it was right about now that he would make some petty remark in regards to it, but that was a desire that he was unable to follow up on.

The fact remained, that she was there.

There was so much to take in. So much to try to comprehend. But right then, as he had to recognize that he was feeling good, for the first time in who knew how long this living nightmare had lasted, he didn't want to think about anything at all. That could wait. Right now he had her laying there next to him. And he had blood in his stomach, a comfortable bed to lay in, and - for the first time since he was abducted, darkness. A real night, with no alarming light shining down on him. That alone was a blessing he had started to think he'd never have again. He hadn't been able to sleep properly in all this time. How long had it been? Never mind. Now, he finally found himself becoming irresistibly drowsy, so deeply that even his constant pains from all over his body dulled down to only a faint ache that would not disturb him any for a while.

******************************************************************************

Buffy lay there, and watched as Spike eventually fell asleep. Her own sleep was not coming easily. After the active day that she had it wasn’t hard to imagine why sleep was not occurring. Killing Caleb, Spike’s return, Faith’s death, the numerous intense conversations she had been forced to have with people, it was all so overwhelming. It was exhausting too, but the shouting in her head due to the overwhelming elements of her day kept her up nevertheless. She looked down and saw Spike’s arm draped over her. He was sound asleep as he needed to be. One thing was going right at least.

Slowly, Buffy lifted his arm off of her body and placed it gently beside him. She stood up and walked a few feet away from the cot they were bunking on. A little space was needed. She needed to think her thoughts, although it was bordering on obsession, pushing her worries away would only result in strengthening them. She needed to figure something out. Spike was hurt, there was death, there was soon to be more death with war waging, things were so strained between her and her friends, it was all becoming too much. Just when she thought she couldn’t take her own inner rambling, a voice was heard coming from behind her.

“Pretty, ain’t it?”

Buffy jumped before turning to see The First. Well, it was The First disguised as Caleb, but it was The First nonetheless.

“You’re not him.” Buffy stated factually.

“No, you killed him right and proper. Terrible loss. This man was my good right arm. ‘Course it doesn’t pain me too much. Don’t need an arm. Got an army.” The First spoke in a pleased manner.

“An army full of vampires. However will I fight a bunch of…oh right, I’ve been doing that for years!”

“Every day our numbers swell. But then, you do have an army of your own. Some thirty-odd pimply faced girls who don’t know the pointy end of a stake, maybe I should call this off.” The First spoke with mock contemplation.

“Have you ever considered a cool name? Since you’re incorporeal and basically powerless you could call yourself ‘The Taunter.” Strikes fear…”

The First quickly cut her off. “I will overrun this earth.”

“You know how many monsters have said that to me?” Buffy sounded unimpressed.

“I do, since they all had a small part of me in them. Whereas I have all of me in me, so I like my chances somewhat better. And when my army outnumbers the humans on this earth the scales will tip and I will be made flesh.” The First gazed down at her intimidatingly.

“Talk on. I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then why aren’t you asleep in your dead lover’s arms?”

“Don’t you dare talk about him.” Buffy spoke through clenched teeth.

The First only smiled before pacing back and forth a bit. “I knew he’d prove useful for something. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind last year, when I started this project, but I have to say, this may work out a whole lot better.”

“What? Using him as punching bag?” Buffy folded her arms.

“No. That wasn’t my doing. It helped. But I had a bigger picture in mind than roughing the vampire up.” The First explained.

Buffy raised her eyebrow. “Yeah? What would that be?”

The First smiled a smile that, strangely enough, almost looked ironic “Why does it matter? You stopped me?”

“Call me curious.”

“Hmmm. What do you remember about going down to rescue him?” The First inquired.

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m just wondering how long it’s going to take for you to put a few things together. You see, you may be The Slayer, but you’re not all that bright. Whores like you, they never are.” The First smirked.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “There was someone else down there with him. Someone human. Angel picked up on it, but they left before anything could be done about it.”

“And yet the last time he was being held against his will I had a great big tough fighting Turok Han guarding the entrance to where he was being held. Did you ever stop and think about why the security around him would be lowered to, well, none at all?” The First stared at her waiting for two and two to come together.

“Wait…”Buffy stood up a bit straighter as she let her arms drop to her sides. “Are you saying that you wanted me to find Spike?”

The First gave her a bright smile, like a teacher might encourage a not very bright student who finally got something right. Then it chuckled. "If you had only waited a little bit longer to come down to our vineyard to kill him, Caleb could have given you all the direction you needed to get your vampire back. When you interrupted us, I was just about to fill him in, and ask him to find some convenient excuse to let you know where to go for your little rescue mission.

Buffy felt sure her confusion and disbelief was written all over her face by now. "Why?"

“You were so worried about the dangers he was going to cause with that trigger. The things that I could make him do. How about the things that he can do all by himself? Let me tell you something girlie girl, you’ve got something far scarier and more dangerous on your hands than you ever would have dealt with before.”

The First gave Spike a look that was almost affectionate. "Now, I don't believe I'll have to destroy your little gang of companions myself after all. With what I've done to him down there, I've got your vampire back as my creature again now, with or without soul.”

It gave Buffy a look of mock sympathy. "So you see, sooner or later, you'll end up going up against me and mine like all the other slayers have through the eons. Alone. Forever.

With that The First disappeared, leaving Buffy’s stunned expression to fall on Spike, a vampire blissfully asleep, and an omen hanging over all of their heads.


	8. the One and the Many

The night was cool, but Buffy had forgotten her jacket. Under the current circumstance, what with The First’s pals popping up at the most inconvenient time, she had sooner made a point of remembering the Scythe, as she got up and out, for a spontaneous patrol. She had to get out, get fresh air, get a chance to cool her head down, and hopefully blow off some steam by kicking some demon ass in the process. It wasn’t any wonder that her mind wasn’t on the weather. Cold or hot, she hardly noticed any discomfort from it. The discomfort was in her stomach. A conversation with The First was always able to give her an extra dose of the wiggins, but this conversation had been different from the past. It was so confident, so pleased with itself. And what had It meant about Spike? Spike was safe. He was out of harm’s way. That should have angered It, but instead it was as though It preferred things to be this way. She knew that The First had wanted it this way. She was too busy saving Spike that she hadn’t really thought of the lack of security surrounding him. Normally, having Angel there should have come in handy for the fighting, but neither one of them had to lift a finger. The First had worked so hard at keeping it a secret that Spike was missing. Why not guard him? It wasn’t the first time that he had been used for great evil, so what had It done this time? It wasn’t as though she could ask him, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t write, there was no means of communication here. Besides, it may not be something he knew about. In the past, he didn’t know about the trigger. 

  
She knew she’d have to watch him. He wasn’t in any condition to commit any crimes as of yet, but if there were any indication of behavior change then she’d have to start working on a way to reverse the issues. Of course, Giles would probably just suggest she’d stake him.  
  
 _Stupid Giles._  
  
There wasn’t time to dwell on her conversation with him. She could only handle chewing over one conversation at a time. Her issues with Giles were nothing new, so they’d simply have to wait. Right now she had to figure out how to beat back the First. How to save the world. She had to think up something new. They had already lost Faith, which wasn’t something that she could afford; they had lost potentials on top of that, not to mention Spike’s issues. It felt as though they were going backwards instead of forwards. It was a mess. No wonder The First was laughing at them. She needed a breakthrough. What was the thing she had been stressing about this whole time? Power! They needed more! Instead they were losing it. She breathed in the air with determination. She was not gonna let that happen anymore!

  
Buffy stopped walking and stared down at the weapon in her hands. Willow had mentioned that the weapon was forged by… Okay they didn’t know that, but there was a tomb on unconsecrated ground. It was something that she needed to find out more about. She needed to know what this weapon was and why it was so important. If it wasn’t for the Angel distraction and her concern for Spike, she probably would have rushed right out and already done that. Her plate was full. There was so much death and a certain someone she was trying to keep from dying even more than he was already dead. She had the time now. She was out now. She might as well seek the answers that needed to be sought.   
  
So, she walked. She thought and she walked. Her busy mind keeping her company and she had to admit that it was nice to be able to hear herself think. She was constantly surrounded by other people and after she had been treated so well, kicked out of her own home, even in that alone time all she could do was cry. Now, she had time to process her day and night. She had time to go over the current situation they were in and really feel over it without having to give others answers that she didn’t have for herself. She didn’t have to be in charge, which she still didn’t know that she completely was, or that she even wanted to be. Right now, it was her alone time, she was on a quest, and she felt like a slayer again. She felt like a real slayer and not some general in a war that she didn’t know how to fight. It was about the answers so she could fight evil and that was why she had been appointed to this slayer position in the first place. Protect against the forces of darkness. Tonight, it was back to basics.  
  
With the town being as small as it was, it didn’t take her long to come across the area that she was looking for. She could spot it from a mile away. Weedy, unkempt, and the gravestones clearly untended. This was the unconsecrated burial ground and as she looked around she spotted a tomb of Egyptian design. She took a few steps towards it, paused only for a moment, and then shot her leg up, kicking it, sending the door flying inward. Without a moment to spare, she made her way inside.   
  
Once inside the dusty tomb, she heard a voice a short distance way. “I’d forgotten.” The female voice spoke.  
  
Buffy’s legs carried her forward and it was then that she came upon an old woman, dressed entirely in white, her clothing so faded she looked as though she was made for this dusty tomb. She could have been an artifact on display.  
  
“I'd forgotten how young you would be. It comes from the waiting. Mind  
plays tricks.” The woman paused. “I see you found our weapon.”  
  
“Who are you?” Buffy gazed at the older woman curiously.  
  
“One of many. Well, time was. Now I'm alone in the world. I'd gamble you know what that's like.” The older woman responded before taking a step forward. She noticed Buffy stiffen immediately. “Don’t worry, you hit me, I’d just about crack in half. But then…” She gazed down at the scythe from a distance. “You've been doing some killing lately. And you're going to do a lot more. Not a wonder you're anxious.”  
  
“So, what are you? Some kind of ghost?” Buffy questioned.   
  
“Nope. I'm as real as you are, just... well put it this way: I look good  
for my age. I've been waiting.”   
  
Buffy slowly handed her the scythe as the older woman held out her hand. She listened as the woman began to speak once more.  
  
“You pulled it out of the rock. I was one of those who put it in there, and  
don't think that was easy.”  
  
“What is it?” Buffy asked with a strong need to know.   
  
“Weapon. A scythe. We forged it in secrecy for one like you, who...” The woman paused and smiled at the young girl before her. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”  
  
“Buffy.”  
  
The older woman kept a forced smile on her face. “No, really.”  
  
Buffy simply shrugged.  
  
The woman continued on, forcing her name out when addressing her. “Buffy. We forged it in secrecy, kept it hidden from the Shadow Men, who…”  
  
Buffy cut her off nonchalantly. “Yeah. Met them. Didn’t care for ‘em.”  
  
The older woman looked at her with new respect and then handed the scythe back to her. “Yes. Then you know. And they became the Watchers. And the Watchers watched the Slayers. But we were watching them.”  
  
“Oh! So you’re like…what are you?”   
  
“Guardians. Women who want to help and protect you.” The older woman nodded towards the scythe. “This was forged, centuries ago, by us. Halfway around the world.”  
  
“Hence, the Luxor Casino theme.” Buffy commented.  
  
“Forged there, it was put to use right here. Only once, to kill the last pure demon that walked upon the earth. The rest were already driven under. And then there were men here, and then there were monks, and the first men died and were sent away, and then there was a town, and now there is you. And the scythe remained hidden.” The older woman explained.   
  
“Does this mean I can win?” Buffy asked, trying to keep the desperate note out of her voice.  
  
“That’s really up to you.” The older woman reached out and ran her fingers along the flat side of the scythe. “This is a powerful weapon.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“But you already have a weapon.”   
  
Buffy looked at her a little baffled. “Oh?”  
  
“Use it wisely... and perhaps you can beat back the rising dark. One way or the other, it can only mean an end is truly near.”  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
It had been hard to get back to sleep once she had returned home after her educational trip out the night before; causing her to be able to grab only a few hours. Buffy lay in her bed thinking about what she had learned. There was still a chance that she could win this. All hope was not lost. Yes, they had been beaten down and yes, they were certainly out-numbered, but the chance of success in this was not out of reach. In fact, it was up to her. What did that mean? What did the old woman mean by the fact that she already had a weapon? It was hurting her head to think about and she was feeling more exhausted than ever. The middle of the night stroll hadn’t helped with that, but she needed to get up. She needed to face the day and all the challenges that lay ahead of her. More than anything, she needed to figure out just what it was that was going to hand them over a victory.  
  
 _That’s really up to you._  
  
The weapon was meant for The Slayer. She got it. She understood. Yet, she wasn’t the only one that was in this. She wasn’t the only one who had slayer in her. She was the activated slayer, yes, but there were all those girls that she had to look out for that had the potential of being what she was now. Then there was The First, it’s assurance that she would be fighting alone. It seemed The Potentials were going to die. Some of them were already dead now. Even though they were so close to having the power that she had. She could train them, teach them the secrets, and give them an advantage before they were called that she never had. Still, they were out of reach from the actual power. Why was it that way? Who had made this stupid rule? All this evil in this world, evil that was now teamed up and ready to take them all down, all of that strength, and yet in the name of good only one could have the power to fight against it. Only one could save the world while a vast number were allowed to destroy it.  
  
That’s when a light bulb lit up in her head.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Buffy rushed downstairs, her hair in serious need of a brush, her pajamas on, but with excitement written all over her face. “Guys…we need to…” Her voice trailed off at the sight before her.  
  
Balloons, party napkins, a bowl of punch, even fun hats. What was going on? Was it someone’s birthday? It wasn’t Dawn’s, was it? She’d never hear the end of it if it was. Just then a chipper voice came from behind her.   
  
“Well, aren’t we looking nice? Should have dressed up at more college parties looking like that. Would have had all the boys after you then.” Willow teased as she walked by holding a big banner.  
  
“If all the guys that I would have had in college were anything like the ones I have been with, big pass there.” Buffy paused, aiming her confusion at Willow now. “What’s going on?”  
  
“What do you mean? Party? See?” Willow pulled out a noisemaker from her pocket and blew it in Buffy’s face.  
  
The noise went right through Buffy as she put her hands to her ears. “Okay. Ow.” She opened her mouth and then shut it a few times with a finger to her ear, trying to get the sound out her ears. “I can see that you’re in party mode, but why are we having a party is what I meant.”  
  
Willow made her way over to the mantle and got up on a step latter that was present and began hanging up the banner she had brought in. She looked over her shoulder at Buffy’s question. “Xander’s coming home today. You didn’t know?”  
  
“Oh. No. I guess I didn’t.” Buffy hadn’t heard much on the news of her friend since she had been kicked out a few days before. She was still a bit out of the loop on what exactly was going on with people, but truth be told, it would be nice to be around one of her friends that hadn’t been a part of the mutiny. “Who’s been taking care of him? This whole town is abandoned.”  
  
Willow turned her attention back to her “Welcome Home” banner, trying to angle it just right as she continued the conversation. “Anya. When everyone fled town, so did all the doctors and nurses. They were getting ready to kick him out before he was ready. Anya threw some kind of fit and is staying with him till he’s better. It’s nothing of the major kind anymore. Simple nursing on her part.”  
  
“Anya? Being nurturing? Are we sure the world hasn’t already ended?” Buffy quirked an eyebrow.  
  
Willow let out a laugh at that. “Thought the same thing myself.”  
  
“Well this is good. Good that Xander will be home and good that I have less people I have to round up.”   
  
Willow stepped off the ladder and looked at her quizzically. “What’s going on?”  
  
“I’ll let you in on it when I get everyone together, but you certainly have a big part in it.” Buffy smiled brightly.  
  
“Big part?” Willow looked at her uneasily. “Are you sure about me making with the big? I kind of like having a helpful part. A part where my presence matters, but maybe is of the unnoticed kind. A part that is smaller, but still significant. A part that…”  
  
Buffy put a hand up. “Will, I’m just gonna stop you there. You’re capable of what I have in mind. Believe me, this is a good thing. It’s a very good thing. I just need to get the girls in here and after Xander is settled, we can start in on it.”   
  
Buffy turned as some of their other friends began piling in; ending their conversation and leaving Willow in the agony of her mind rolling over all the tasks she might be asked to take on.  
  
“What time is he supposed to be here?” Dawn asked as she plopped down on the couch.  
  
Willow responded, snapping out of her thoughts. “Probably any minute.”  
  
Buffy looked down at her clothing, running her fingers through her hair. “I should get dressed then. One look at me and he might request he be driven back to the hospital for a few more days. Besides, this isn’t exactly an authoritative look.”   
  
“Authoritative? For Xander? I don’t think he needs dominating.” Dawn pointed out in confusion.   
  
“Not for Xander. It’s for a war council I’m having after he’s back.” She looked around noting that Scoobies were all here. “We’ll keep just keep it friends for a bit, but once he’s comfortable I’ll probably call in the Potentials and Angel, so we can have a real meeting. But first: Clothes. Real clothes.” With that, Buffy dashed upstairs, now leaving everyone in suspense.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Buffy quickly made her way back downstairs after freshening up, in time to hear the door open and greetings being made to Xander. She caught sight of Anya and Giles helping him over to the couch while stepping off the stairs. Xander was still in rough condition. He was a human after all. Caleb had been able to fling her across the room like an annoying fly, knocking her out, and she was the slayer. Xander had taken a full blown attack against him. He may not be hospital bound anymore, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still in need of some heavy duty healing.   
  
She made her way into the room, his face lighting up immediately seeing her, he was none the wiser to the situations that had occurred while he had been gone. No one wanted to stress him while he recovered. Stress went hand in hand with war, but considering what he had been through; focusing on his healing was what was best for him. What was best for her friends still mattered above all else.  
  
“It’s so good to see you.” Buffy bent down and hugged him lightly, but warmly. “You seem better than before.”  
  
“I feel a lot better. Not ready to run a marathon or say fight the ultimate evil with lots of sharp pointy weapons, but I’m getting there.”Xander commented dryly.  
  
“You can’t fight The First with sharp pointy weapons. They’d just go through It.” Buffy quipped.   
  
Xander smirked. “So, what have I missed?”  
  
“You sure you want to get into all of that. It’s a party. See? Noise maker.” Willow put it in her mouth ready to blow on it, but Buffy quickly grabbed it from her lips.   
  
“Let’s just leave the blowing for another time.” Buffy smiled with an attempt at protecting her ears.  
  
Everyone turned and stared at Buffy, stunned.   
  
Buffy stared back at them in confusion before realization fell over her face. “Mind. Gutter much?”  
  
After a moment everyone’s attention landed back on Xander and he shifted uncomfortably under their gaze.   
  
“That’s very disturbing.” Anya voiced for him.   
  
“What? We’re just happy to see him!” Willow smiled. “We have party hats too.”  
  
“I’m just going to stop you right there, Will. Before Buffy makes another sexual suggestion that none of us would feel comfortable admitting is a good idea out loud.” Xander commented.  
  
“I have no problem admitting it’s a good idea. In fact, you and I actively participated in it many times.” Anya voiced.  
  
“Oh dear Lord, will someone just fill Xander in on what’s occurred while he’s been away.” Giles sighed in exasperation.  
  
“Well, Faith died.” Dawn helped out.  
  
“What?” Shock was written over Xander’s face.  
  
“Oh good, glad we’re easing him into everything.” Buffy stated in good humor.  
  
“There was an explosion.” Dawn explained further.   
  
“The First had Spike.” Willow chimed in.  
  
“Again!” Xander’s voice held surprise and sarcasm all in one.  
  
“Angel’s here brooding up the basement.” Dawn piped up once more.  
  
“Oh! I killed Caleb.” Buffy smiled proudly.  
  
“I hope you made it hurt. Bad.” Xander jaw tightened at the image in his head.  
  
“Believe me. He paid for everything he’s done.” Buffy assured him.  
  
“So…how’s Spike doing? Better or worse than the last time?” Xander inquired in need of a subject change.  
  
“Worse. He was gone much longer and…well…tortured a lot more. There was someone working with The First. A human. We don’t know who yet.” Buffy sighed. “Anyway, it’s really good to have you back. I have something important to tell everyone. As soon as I can round up the rest of the gang, we’ll get started.”  
  
“What’s this about?” Giles looked up with interest as he voiced the curiosity that they all had been feeling earlier on.  
  
“Change in battle tactics.” Buffy’s cryptic words rang out, begging for the rest of her exposition.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
After the party, while waiting for the remainder of the army to appear, Buffy took Xander and Anya downstairs, as they, especially Anya, insisted on getting to see for themselves how Spike was doing. They caught him fitfully asleep, and close to wrestling out of his bed sheet.   
  
"Wow!" Xander commented. “The sight of him. Makes me a lot less sorry for myself over this." He gestured towards his own various injuries. "A human worked with the First on this, you said? How can anyone fully human do such a thing?"  
  
Anya gave him a look that indicated that he was a moron. "Honestly, that's obvious. Look at the intense thoroughness of this. All the creativity that's been put into steadily finding new ways of hurting him. The stamina it takes to keep it going for a long time. This is vengeance. And rather well done too" She nodded in professional approval. "If you want to find whoever did this, you should look among people Spike has gravely harmed in the past. People who might have a huge grudge against him." She looked up from studying Spike, and met both Xander and Buffy's eyes. "Pity there could be so many of them, with all the slaughter he has committed up during history." She added in an afterthought.  
  
Spike stirred and fluttered his eyes open. Voices. There were voices all around, disturbing his sleep. Not that he would have slept much longer anyway. The still very much present pain coming in from all of his sore limbs had him half awake already. Still, it annoyed him that Buffy had brought ample company down with her this time. Let them all come barging in on him. He didn't want to get peeped at by all of them. He only wanted her. He noticed with shame that the sheet was slipping again. The damn thing was way too light and soft! There was no hold to it. He made a feeble attempt to pull it up, but had to give it up as another jolt of pain exploded from his splintered hand. Luckily, Buffy caught on to what he was trying to do, and hurried up to grab the sheet and pull it carefully up around him.  
  
Anya kept on prattling. He had to give her credit though, she was on to something. More than any of the others seemed to be, with their mindless pondering on how anyone could make themselves do such a thing as Wood had done to him. Too shame, really, with all their experience with the various ways and versions of evil, that it took a former vengeance demon to point out the flavor of this version. And connect it back to his own evilness. In some ways he really wished he has his voice back, to tell them exactly who had done this. But in another way he wasn't so sure he wanted to, even if he could. The story of how he had been taken down by Wood was embarrassing. And, it wouldn't be pleasant to have to dig up and explain all the uglies of what he had been through down there. He most of all just wanted to forget all about that. Yeah right. Like that was gonna happen…

  
"It's outrageous that whoever it was felt the need to align himself with the ultimate evil to get his revenge though. Has he never heard of vengeance demons? He should have come to me, and I could have given him lots of good ones to beseech." She looked up, and stopped her ramble, as she became aware of the shocked faces of her friends. "Not that I ever would, of course!" She backtracked hurriedly. "I'm fully on Spike's side in this!" She gave him a warmly supportive look. “I don’t dish it anymore. Even if I did you’re not exactly my normal clientele, but I’d be willing to make an exception. There might be a few demons that I could get you in contact with. Or you could consider enacting a little vengeance of your own when you’re well. Still, it’s not quite as creative as when a wish is involved. You could have them forced to live life walking around with their intestines hanging out of their body, dragging against the ground. Things like that. So, what do you say?”  
  
Spike stared at her baffled once more.  
  
“Say something. I feel like I’m the only one whose been talking the whole time I’ve been down here. I’m only trying to help. That’s appropriate. You offer up a gift to someone whose been injured. Like Xander. I offered up myself. He just couldn’t move to well, but we managed. I straddled him. Careful of his injuries, of course. We don’t go crazy with pain-pleasure.”  
  
If ever there were a moment when Spike should have been able to holler and use his hands to cover his ears, it would have been right then. Instead, he was forced to listen to Anya go off into a long description of her sex life with The Boy. And here he thought the torture was supposed to be over.  
  
“Anyway, what was it I was saying?” Anya paused before holding up a finger. “Right. Vengeance! Do it!”  
  
Angel made his way down into the basement at the sound of Anya’s voice talking with Spike. He had caught the end tail of her too personal description and figured that some rescuing was in order. “The gang is assembled for war council. We’re waiting for all of you.” He eyed not only Anya, but Xander and Buffy as well, who gave a nod of their heads.  
  
Anya frowned and then shrugged. “It’s just as well. I can’t get anything from him. It’s irritating.”  
  
“He can’t speak.” Angel stated.  
  
“Oh. Well, that’s less rude then.” Anya reached over and patted Spike on the shoulder awkwardly. “I’m sorry you’re so damaged. I wish it were better for you. Think about what I said.”   
  
Anya turned and made her way back upstairs with Buffy and Xander, heading towards the meeting that was being held.  
  
Angel turned and looked at Spike, who looked back at him. He was pretty sure that he actually detected a thankful look on Spike’s face. Angel simply nodded. “I think even you would have done the same for me.” With that he turned and made his way towards the meeting himself.  
  
******************************************************************************  
The room was filled to its maximum capacity. Every person stood there wondering what this could be about. Kennedy, who was sure that it was simply going to be another motivational speech, was bored already. Still, she felt slightly more reasonable than in the past towards Buffy given the recent events and was even a bit sorry underneath her tough exterior. Willow, on the other hand, knew this was more than another “Let’s win this war!” speech and was quite apprehensive over hearing what her newfound role was going to be. Angel wasn’t focusing on the war council at all. He couldn’t help but scan the room angrily looking for his grand-childe’s captor. Whoever it was, his scent was here, and it was strong.   
  
It was one of Buffy’s pals. The truth was, it wasn’t going to be hard to narrow down which one. There were mostly females in this pack of warriors and the men that he knew he was familiar with the scents of. It wasn’t Xander’s, nor Giles. So, who did that leave… Angel’s eyes fell on him in an instant. He had never seen him before, but it was clear that the others were familiar with him. He belonged here. He was part of this war against The First. That was really rich. He was working with The First and yet he was standing there as if he were just as good and pure as the rest of everyone in that room.

  
Buffy stood before her friends and the hard-working potentials. What she was about to tell them was a complete game changer. It would have The First itself shaking in its non-corporal boots if it caught wind of this. Luckily, for all them this would not be the case. It was going to hit the enemy in complete surprise and there was a good chance they would be victorious in the end. No, on second thought, they would be victorious in the end.  
  
“I hate being here.” She began as she stared out at a room full of anticipating eyes on her. “I hate that you have to be here. I hate that there's evil, that it's growing, and I hate that I was chosen to fight it. I wish a whole lot of the time that I hadn't been.” Buffy smirked at her next statement. “I know a lot of you wish I hadn't been either.”  
  
Kennedy and Rona looked away shamefully, but didn’t speak out.  
  
“But this isn't about wishes. This is about choices. I never had one. I was chosen. And I accept that. I'm not asking you to accept anything. I'm asking you to make your own choice. I believe we can beat this evil -- not when it comes, not after its army is ready, but now. Tomorrow morning I'm opening the Seal. I'm going down into the Hellmouth and I'm going to finish it once and for all.” Buffy took a deep breath before continuing on. “I've got strong allies: warriors, charms, sorcerers, and I'll need them all. But I'll also need you. Every single one of you. So now you're asking yourself, "What makes this different? What makes us anything more than a bunch of girls getting picked off one by one?" It's true none of you has the power Faith had or I have. Now that she’s gone, it’s time for a new Slayer to be called, but we can't even be sure that girl is in this room. That's the rule. So here's the part where you make a choice…”  
  
Buffy eyed everyone intensely. “What if you could have that power? Now. All of you. In every generation one Slayer is born because a bunch of guys that died thousands of years ago made up that rule. They were powerful men.” Buffy pointed to Willow. “This woman is more powerful than all of them combined. So I say we change the rules. I say my power should be our power. Tomorrow Willow will use the essence of this scythe, that contains the energy and history of so many Slayers, to change our destiny. From now on, every girl in the world who might be a Slayer, will be a Slayer. Every girl who could have the power, will have the power. Who can stand up, will stand up. Every one of you, and girls we've never known, and generations to come...they will have strength they never dreamed of, and more than that, they will have each other. Slayers. Every one of us. Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong?”  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Buffy stood in in her bedroom with her closest friends. It was time to get the feedback from those who would take a much larger role in her epiphany, especially the Wicca herself. She was nervous. It was a radical idea and one that she wasn’t entirely sure that she’d be able to get everyone on board with, but she would fight for it tooth and nail, because she knew that this was the way for them to win. This would bring victory if they could just trust her. The past had shown that their trust in her hadn’t been as strong as she believed it to be over the years. That hurt, but it was time to move past that. It was time to save the world and that was going to take everyone really reaching out and believing in one another. They would all have to stand as one.  
  
“So what do you all think?” Buffy asked, unable to take the silence.  
  
“That depends. Are you kidding?” Xander asked sincerely from the bed he was sitting on.  
  
“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” Buffy couldn’t say she was entirely surprised.  
  
“It's a lot more than that. Buffy what you're talking about flies in the face of everything we've ever --that every generation has ever done in the fight against evil.” Giles smiled. “It’s bloody brilliant.”  
  
Buffy’s face lit up. “You really mean that.”  
  
“If you want my opinion.” Giles simply responded.  
  
“Really do.” Despite their rocky relationship, that only seemed to continue to get rockier, Giles’ opinion mattered to Buffy. He was a big part of who she had become and what he thought and felt could only hold value to her. No matter how angry she got with him. No matter how angry she still was with him.   
  
“Whoa hey, not to poop on the party, but I'm the guy who's gonna have to pull this off.” Willow spoke up.  
  
“Is that even possible?” Dawn inquired.  
  
“I believe it is. If the details that Buffy learned about the weapon are true.” Giles commented.  
  
“Not to careen back to the me subject, but... I'm... this is beyond anything  
I've ever done. This is a total loss of control, and not in a nice, wholesome, my-girlfriend-has-a-  
pierced-tongue way.” Willow explained nervously.  
  
“I wouldn’t’ ask if I didn’t think you could do it.” Buffy assured her.  
  
“I…I’m not sure I’m stable enough.” Willow looked to them uneasily.  
  
“You can do this, Willow. We’ll get the coven on the line, and we’ll find out how they can help.” Giles decided.  
  
“Oh!”  
  
Everyone’s eyes focused in on Dawn’s.  
  
“Tongue piercing.” Dawn said sheepishly.  
  
“Dawn needs to do the research thing.” Buffy stated with hurry.  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. “It’s cool. Watcher junior to the library.” Dawn made her exit.  
  
“We need to discuss who’s coming to this battle.” Buffy spoke more seriously. “Obviously Spike is really injured and probably is only going to be useful in the getting himself killed sense. He can’t stay here alone.”   
  
“Well, I can stay with him. I pretty sure I fall into that same category now.” Xander pointed out.  
  
“I’m not entirely sure you can be left alone either.” Buffy’s eyes widened. “Not that you’re helpless…you’re just…”  
  
“Helpless?” Xander looked at her pointedly.  
  
Buffy didn’t respond, but quickly moved past it. “We probably should have someone here to…  
  
“Babysit.” Xander cut off.  
  
Buffy gritted her teeth. “Help out.”  
  
“Why don’t we just bring them?” Willow suggested. “They don’t have to go inside.”  
  
“Where are we going to put them?” Buffy inquired.  
  
“I know, but we don’t know how this thing is going to play or how it might spread beyond the building. They’d probably be safer in close range with all the other warriors.” Willow pointed out.   
  
Buffy shook her head. “No, with their condition that’s dangerous. Especially, Spike’s. He’s too fragile.”  
  
“Yeah, he can’t defend himself if the war leaks past the school. The chances are they aren’t going to go knocking on every door, but they might notice him and Xander hanging out if they’re right by the war.” Anya spoke in agreement with Buffy.  
  
“Right. Whereas Spike was such a big threat to The First and It’s clearly behind the condition he’s in now, It might decide just to finish the job. Home really is the best place for the both of them. They’re likely to be left out of this.” Buffy finished.  
  
Willow didn’t have an argument for that. Xander on the other hand did. “Just gonna step in. I know you’re all having fun talking about me as if I’m not here, but I’ve got a bit of an oversight to point out. Bringers.”  
  
“Bringers? What about them?” Buffy’s confused eyes fell on him.  
  
“The last time we thought Spike was safe and snug here The Bringers were able to take him right from under our nose. That was with us here, in the same location. Imagine how easy it’s going to be for them to do some serious damage if he’s here all alone. Not to mention if this thing does get past the school I’m not in the best shape for defending him.” Xander, the sudden voice of reason, pointed out.  
  
“Well, I don’t know. You have a point, but how is he going to be any better defended there? We can’t keep an eye on him anyway while we’re fighting.” Buffy mulled this over for a moment. “But if this war leaks out, we’ll need to get away far and fast. We won’t have time to come back and pick someone up.” She thought a little more. “I was going to have us walk there tomorrow night, but if Spike’s going to be coming along, in his condition, walking isn’t going to be an option. We need transportation. We need something big enough.”  
  
“A school bus is big enough.” Dawn proposed. “I’m sure Wood wouldn’t mind if one of us ‘borrowed’ one. It’s not like they’re being used anyway. And if there’s any sign of trouble coming Spike and Xander’s way he can at least drive away from it. Right?” Dawn looked at Xander questioningly.  
  
Xander nodded confirming her thoughts. “Besides, Spike’s got warrior mentality. I don’t care how beat up he is. Guy would hate missing a fight. Even if he’s on the outside looking in.”  
  
Buffy nodded. “Good. That’s good. We’ve got a plan in place.”  
  
“Plan is good.” Willow gave a small smile.  
  
“Well, I’ll go dig up my sources. Quite literally, actually. I’ll see about getting that bus when I have a moment to spare.” Giles announced

  
“Kinda going in tomorrow, Giles. Find that moment.” Buffy commanded.   
  
“Yes, I’ll get on it.” Giles nodded before exiting the room.  
  
Anya’s eyes fell on Xander. “Come on, let’s go help the cannon fodder prepare.”  
  
“That’s not what we’re calling them.” Xander showed amused disapprovement.  
  
“Not to their faces. What am I, insensitive?” Anya responded as she and Xander left as well.  
  
Buffy looked at the scythe longingly, feeling the power coming off it, before handing it off to a reluctant Willow.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
It had been bothering him throughout the whole meeting. Sure, Angel had been paying attention. He heard the plan that lay ahead for all of them, but the minute that familiar scent had made its way into the room, there was no way he couldn’t be distracted by it. Spike’s captor was here and he knew who it was now.   
  
As he made his way into the kitchen, he found himself alone with just the man that he wanted to pay a visit to. Robin Wood. Angelus, well, he’d be ready to give this guy a pat on the back. Too bad for him that Angelus was buried deep within himself and that was where he was going to remain from here on out.   
  
“You’re a warrior?” Angel folded his arms from the doorway.  
  
Wood, who was sipping a cup of coffee by the sink, looked up. “Excuse me?”  
  
Angel took a few step forwards while he spoke, not going any further than the island in the middle of the kitchen. “In this battle? You’re a warrior. Take on The First even though you’re just a human.”  
  
“Well, this Just-A-Human knows a lot of moves.” Wood responded.  
  
“I didn’t say that you didn’t.”  
  
“Well, then, yes. I guess I’m a warrior.” Slight confusion fell over Wood’s face, but he kept the bizarre nature of this conversation to himself.

  
“Are you going to tie the First’s army down too?” Angel inquired with stern eyes.  
  
“What?” Wood tried to keep the concern off his face. He couldn’t possibly know. This was just a coincidence. How could he know?  
  
“Are you going to tie them down? A real warrior fights his opponent when he’s free to defend himself. Even if he’s believed to be on the wrong side, a real warrior goes off on a code of honor, because they want their win to be fair. They want it to be a real win. If they overtake their enemy it’s because they actually overtook him. Not because they say…I don’t know…tied them down, tortured them, operated on them! And fed them not even the bare minimum of blood they needed.” Angel eyed him coolly. “As an example.”  
  
Wood made a move for the door, but Angel was in his way in a flash, the coffee cup went crashing down towards the floor, but Angel stuck his hand out catching it in time. No need to bring unwanted attention around. He backed Wood up to the sink once more and got right in his face

  
“You’re not a warrior.” Angel spoke lowly. “You’re a coward.”  
  
“What do you know about it? You see the condition that he’s in and you assume…”  
  
Angel quickly cut him off. “I assume that he wasn’t given a fair fight. I assume that you worked with The First, because as I’ve been told, It’s had quite a bit of interest in Spike. I assume that right now, whatever you’re pissed off about, isn’t the time for it. It definitely isn’t the way to deal with it!”  
  
“He killed my mother!” Wood spoke in an intensified hushed tone.  
  
Angel’s expression didn’t change. So, that was it. That was the big bomb that was supposed to melt his soul and understand that the monster in all of this was really just the victim. “You’re pathetic.” Angel spat out.  
  
The look of surprise on Wood’s face was priceless, but it soon turned to anger. “I’m not so sure that you’d be saying that if you had experienced what I did. If you had lost what I’ve lost.”  
  
“I’m not going to stand here and explain to you the difference between a vampire and a vampire with a soul. It doesn’t matter. It’s really not the point.”  
  
“Then what is the point?”  
  
“The first one would be that you worked with The First itself. I don’t hear you denying it and there’s no use in you trying to. We’re going to battle with this thing tomorrow and you are buddy buddy with it!”  
  
“I am not buddy buddy with it!” Wood’s voice raised, but he kept it very controlled, not wanting to bring about anyone else’s attention.  
  
“You’re a coward and a traitor. How do I know that you’re not going into battle tomorrow on It’s side?”   
  
“I’m not! Believe me, I want the First vanquished as much as anyone. Yes, I asked It for a favor, and if I let It continue to exist in this world, It will very likely some day come to collect the debt. I don’t want that day to ever come! There probably wouldn’t be much left of me afterwards. So, I can promise you that! I have a vendetta against one vampire and one vampire only. Not the whole world.”   
  
“I believe you.” Angel nodded pensively. “Which brings me to my other point.” he switched into game face. “You pissed off someone’s grand-sire and that is never a smart thing to do.”  
  
Wood swallowed. Suddenly, it all made sense. Of course, he was siding with Spike on this. He was one of them! He was a vampire himself. There was no way he could expect him to understand human emotions. What was it with Buffy inviting these things into her house? Did she not understand the job description of a vampire Slayer? Maybe they didn’t have to worry about the war after all. Maybe she’d go down to the hellmouth and become good friends with The First’s army too. This was getting out of hand. Here he was with another vampire with threatening fangs at his face that he was supposed to be nice to. What was he going to do about it? Fight Angel? If he did that, then he would bring about all kinds of unwanted attention and then they would learn the truth of what he had done. He didn’t know what would be done to him. He also couldn’t very well let Angel rip a hole into his neck. How did he get himself into such a predicament?  
  
Angel could feel the fear seeping from him. Good. It was just a start, but it would do for now. “Unfortunately, I can’t kill you right now. I believe you, that you don’t intend to betray our cause in the immediate future. We need all the fighters we can in this showdown, and I can’t have anything distracting Buffy or the rest of her army for that matter away from the war. This has to be put on hold. But that won’t last. We’ll have our day. And if you even think about taking off before this battle, I will find you, and I will make you regret it even more than I’m going to when this thing is finished.”  
  
Angel took a step back and then made his way towards the door before turning around and speaking to Wood once more. “You’re no better than who Spike used to be. In fact, working with the Ultimate Evil itself, considering yourself much worse.” He paused. “Oh, and if you ever so much as look Spike’s way again, I won’t wait till after the battle to deal with you. And I’ll be watching you very closely. Remember that I sleep during the day”  
  
Tension remained in the room even after Angel had gone, as Wood was left with a new set of worries. Someone knew now. He had no help out of this one. In fact, he was fairly sure that there was no way out of this at all. He would die by the hands of a vampire, just as his mother had.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
No one could sleep. How could they? Tomorrow things were coming to an end. Tonight would be the last for some of them. They coped differently. A few of them were playing Dungeons and Dragons to take their mind off things, some watched TV, some read, and some sat around simply talking. The only exception to this no sleeping pattern was the crazy ones, meaning Anya, who couldn’t be stirred if you slapped her across the face. Perhaps she’d wind up doing the best in battle, as she’d actually be rested. Where was Buffy in all of this? Well, she had just made her way down into the basement, a vampire with a curious look on his face staring back at her in confusion and warmth.  
  
Why was she here? He wondered this as their eyes met. On this final night, the one that could very well be her last, she had chosen to spend it down here with him? Not among her friends. Not with Angel. Him? In a moment, his spirits lifted, and the why of it didn’t matter. She was here. They were together and for the rest of the night she gently held him in silence. Their eyes fixed on each other, not needing to know what the other would say if words could be had. What was in their hearts could be seen in each others eyes.


	9. Breathe In. Breathe Out.

  
  
The place was still quiet by this point in the night. This did not mean that everyone was sleeping, but with the looming events that was about to come it seemed that not many people had much to say as fear, anxiety, and determination was gripping the throats of the occupants spaced out around Buffy’s home.  
  
Buffy, herself, was able to take her mind off things for the moment. It was Spike’s needs that allowed her to focus on anything other than war and the deaths that would come along with it.  
  
He was sleeping and she didn’t want to wake him, so she began very gently to wrap his wounds up as she and Angel had discussed earlier. The bus ride could be a bumpy one, especially if the battle leaked out passed the school. Who knew what would happen, and anything that could protect his damaged body, even an extra layer of bandages, would be something that she would take.  
  
“Need any help?” Angel spoke up from behind her.  
  
Buffy jumped at the sound of his voice. She then rolled her eyes. “Couldn’t you like breathe or something to let me know when you’re there?”   
  
“It’s not like I need breath.” Angel reminded her.  
  
“Doesn’t stop Spike.” Buffy muttered.   
  
“You’re the Slayer. Shouldn’t you be able to sense me?”   
  
“I’m a little distracted right now.” Buffy huffed.  
  
“What? Dressing Spike’s wounds?” Angel took a step forward. “Don’t you have enough on your plate right now? I can do that for you.”  
  
Buffy looked over her shoulder. “In all the years that I’ve known you, you haven’t gotten any less transparent, you know that?”   
  
Angel looked at her innocently. “What? I just came down to see if you needed help.”  
  
Buffy shook her head, more amused than annoyed. “Right. Well. Thanks, but I can handle it. This is probably the easiest task I’m going to get all day. Let me bask in it.”  
  
Buffy turned her head back towards Spike missing the almost-pout from Angel. He didn’t care to think of her basking in anything that had to do with Spike. Sure, they had already had their conversation over this, but it didn’t mean that he liked their interaction any more. It just meant that he was going to act less hostile over it.  
“I’ll be up when it’s gets to be time to leave.” Buffy stated.  
  
Taking the hint Angel made his way upstairs. What other choice did he have? Buffy was focused on her vampire and at the moment it wasn’t him. At least Spike was asleep. He was comforted by that fact and for that he was glad that he had gone downstairs.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
The troops were moving out. Friends and potentials charged towards the bus loading themselves up. Spike and Xander, who required extra handling, had been placed there ready to go before the others. Spike was covered up with a blanket, shielded away from the sun that might rise before the battle was over. There was no telling how long this battle was going to last, but with the shape that he was in he would be unable to get himself covered if the time came and the troops were still stationed inside. Xander was only inches away and could probably get the job done, but considering how busted up he was, it wasn’t worth risking the sun beating him before the job was done. Buffy had positioned Spike so that he was laying towards the back of the bus, on the ground, covered in blankets. His face peaked out as everyone sat around, as the safe darkness was still blanketing them.  
  
Tension could be felt rolling off everyone who sat in waiting. They were bringing the war to the enemy. Still, the tension in this bus was not restricted to the war itself. Spike felt like he might explode in fury: Wood was there. Sitting only a few rows ahead of him, and sharing in the nervous chatter with the rest. He had a lot of nerve, continuing to hang with the gang like that. But, he noticed, with some satisfaction, he wasn’t the only one feeling like that. Angel’s eyes couldn’t help but fall on Wood as he sat silently a little behind him. More than that, his gaze held nothing but hatred and one might think it was Angelus who was present. In a lot of ways he was. It was clear as day that something had gone on between these two? Was it too much to hope that Angel had figured out that he was behind what had happened? Wood’s own zoned out expression of avoidance clearly stated that something was up and should have been peculiar to others. Instead, it was chalked up to the same stress everyone was undergoing, the fear that they would die. The fear that those they cared about would die. Plus, the terror that evil would prevail. From where Spike was sitting it seemed that this was the least of Wood's worries. He only hoped Angel wouldn’t take matters into his own fangs, and cheat him of the right to take this monster out. Would be just like him, the git.   
  
Wood was indeed more worried about the aftermath than about the battle itself. It was only a matter of time before everything was known. His involvement would come to light or at the very least he’d have an angry vampire on his hands. Woods doubted Angel would keep Buffy out of the showdown. A vampire and a slayer up against a watcher-trained slayer’s son, this was not a pleasant thought. Wood was good in a fight, but he knew full well that he didn’t stand a chance in that circumstance. This couldn’t be known. He couldn’t be found out by Buffy. It wasn’t solely about making sure Spike stayed quiet. What would shutting Spike up do for him now when the truth had already been made known to some? Not some. A certain one. A one that would kill him faster than he could blink. It was no use. He was a traitor, even if his betrayal wasn’t where his heart was. He was lost in pain and ache. His childhood had been dramatically altered due to evil that he had to not only look in the face day in and day out, but fight side by side with. How could he not lose his cool? How could they expect him not to react? But they weren’t going to take his emotions into consideration. That had already been made clear. No, he needed to get out. First, do his part. He was on the side of good after all. He was willing to risk his life for the future of the world. He valued every living being’s fate. He deeply appreciated this chance to break the dirty alliance with the First and fight on the right side. To make sure no more innocents were harmed, no more children would have to suffer as orphans like he had, no more evil were allowed to dominate the world. He knew the errors of his ways earlier. He could chew this over day and night and it would still come down to one thing. He teamed up with the ultimate evil. He had teamed up with The First. He cursed himself for having been bound to go to that extreme. He should have been able to take Spike down himself when he had the chance! Now it was too late. He knew that. He clung on to the hope that maybe, if he fought bravely and really showed his devotion to taking the First down, maybe they'd never suspect him? Especially if Angel, who was the only one who knew, died down there, and couldn't make good on his promise of revenge. Maybe, then, he could make it out of this alive. Maybe.

  
Spike hadn’t been surprised to see Wood come along for the apocalypse given how involved he had been since Buffy had met him, but that didn’t mean he liked to think that she was such good mates with Wood after what he had done. He was the one responsible after all, working with The First itself, and yet here he sat as if he were one of the heroes. As his impotent rage sept out of him, he couldn’t help but feel vulnerable, damaged, with the knowledge that Wood could still do what he pleased so easily with him if he wanted to. The only thing Wood proved was to become more creative in his torture as time went on. He operated on him, what did the bloke have planned for him next? There was something next. There had to be. The guy hadn’t simply let him go. Buffy and Angel had rescued him, he had escaped, and there was no question that it had probably pissed him off royally. Spike didn’t want to find out what else was in store. He couldn’t. Weaker than a human, he knew it was true, now even without restraints. He felt as though he were being choked, he wanted to grab at his throat, rip the non-existent hands away, but he knew the attempt would only bring pain. None nearly so bad as what his captor had planned for him if he got his hands on him again though. He wanted to. He was planning it. That must be true.  
  
Spike reverted to reminding himself that Buffy was here. She was standing right in front of him. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She had taken the time to get him back during hell literally breaking lose, so there was no way that she would allow for him to go back. He felt pathetic now. Normally, it’d be his own skill he was sure of. He could take care of himself. Instead he was looking for protection as if he needed to be coddled and looked after with care like fine China. It was all Wood’s fault for it too. That familiar urge to rip his throat out was creeping up again and it was only his damaged physical condition that kept him from doing it.   
  
 _Mate has real balls stickin’ ‘round. Must have a death wish. Can help with that, I can._  
  
Buffy sensed the tension of shifting emotions that was rolling off Spike causing her to turn and look at him. She gently placed a hand on his blanket covered body. “It’s gonna be alright Spike.” What else could she say to him? She couldn’t promise him anything specific. She didn’t know what he was thinking about, but she knew that he was the one on the bus whose mind actually could be off the war given what he had been rescued from.   
  
 _Soddin’ perfect! Now I really am bein’ treated like fine China!_  
  
There was a storm brewing inside of him. He felt such vulnerability, uselessness, frustration. He wanted to stand up, do the bloke in, but that wasn’t a possibility. He laid here, like a lump, letting his tormentor get away, and letting the love of his unlife walk to what could be her death without him as any kind of help to have in her corner. He should be able to deal with his own problems, but instead he was laying under a blanket, forced to wallow in them. Sound like any particular vampire? He swore the day he became like Peaches he’d put a stake in himself.   
  
The bus halted to a stop, everyone looked towards each other hesitantly. This was the last moment they were able to think, feel fear, and worry. That moment was up now. Over with before it had begun, because now it was time to act.  
  
Buffy was the first to move. She took a moment to allow her eyes to fall on Spike and then Xander with a look of respect for her two injured warriors. After a few seconds passed by she made her way towards the front of the bus standing before everyone as a tower of strength. “Everyone head inside. Orders will be given in the lobby.” With that simply stated she walked off the bus, making her way towards the school, an army following close behind.  
  
There was one straggler left behind. Angel. He had sensed someone watching him and he didn’t have to turn his head to know who it was. Spike was picking up on something. He was always too observant for his own good. Perhaps he was too observant much to Angel’s annoyance, but right now he was glad to see it. Now more than ever Spike deserved to be able to seek comfort in something. He deserved to be able to seek comfort in the fact that the person who had done this to him would be dealt with.   
  
Angel moved towards the back of the bus and bent down towards Spike, speaking in a very hushed tone. “Don’t worry. I know. No one hurts my family and gets away with it. I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore. I’ll defend you. And I promise you, he will be dealt with…”  
  
Those were the words that Spike was left with. He watched his grand-sire stand up, turn, and make his way out towards the war.  
  
***********************************************************************

  
With the troops having stormed into the school the two misfits were left on the bus to stew. An awkward silence hung helplessly in the air and it didn’t help matters any that Xander’s only real company was an apprehensive looking blanket.  
  
“You know.” Xander spoke up. “We should have come better prepared. I should have brought a deck of cards. We could have played war. While they’re fighting in war. Kinda like a theme. Only way depressing. Granted, your hands don’t work, and I’m not even fully fit for that either. but at least it’d pass the time until what could be our untimely death.”  
  
Silence met Xander’s words, that and a raised eyebrow from Spike. It would have been bad enough if he were stuck with another useless individual, any useless individual, but at least then ranting and raving with one another was an option. Conversations were hard to have with a mute. But he was still grateful for his own ability to vent. At least it wasn’t bottled inside. Spike may be free, but it seemed he was still a prisoner in many ways, locked within himself. As mute company to be stuck with, Spike really wasn't the worst though, with how he kept finding ways to express himself anyway.  
  
“Gotta say, I’m kinda missing your british insults.” Xander sighed. Spike gave him a look that came close to making up for the lack. Xander chuckled. “Okay, this sucks. I’ve been fighting by Buffy’s side since the beginning. I should be there with her now. All of them. Anya! I let Anya walk in there without my support. I even proposed to her during one of these things once.” He quieted down at the memory. They could have been married right now. No, it wasn’t right, the getting married that is. There were too many doubts, too many uncertainties back then. That didn’t take away the sting of the events that unfolded. It didn’t keep it from allowing a cloud to form over the once happy memory of their engagement. “I don’t want her to die…”  
  
Spike lifted his head up, sympathetic blue eyes peering out at Xander from underneath his cave. The corners of his mouth were starting to form a sore smile. It was quite possibly the only time the two of them had ever been in the same boat. They both were hurting, waiting in anxiety, fate forcing them to sit on the sidelines when they had just as much right to be down in the trenches with everyone else. No, Spike couldn’t speak with words, but his eyes said it all. It was frustrating for him too.

 

He should have been able to go down into the trenches with Buffy, helping, having her back as he had done for years. Instead, he had wait here with The Glorified Brick Layer. He wasn’t the worst company to be useless with. That was something that he wouldn’t have thought a year ago. How things change. Xander had started acting decent and Giles was going around trying to get him killed. People can surprise you. Even after living as long as he had.  
  
He had allowed his thoughts to digress, but only for so long. They only could for a short period of time. Immediately his thoughts would fall back onto Buffy, wondering how she was doing inside. What if she was hurt? What if she was bleeding? What if they had all been massacred already? No. That hadn’t happened yet. He would know it as he and Xander would be next on the menu to be slaughtered. Their only defense was Xander’s driving skills and somehow Spike just wasn’t counting on that to be their saving grace. It didn’t matter, that part of it, it wasn’t a concern. He wasn’t afraid of violence and death. The only time it rocked him was when it was that of someone he cared about. His mind immediately went back to the thought of Buffy hurt and in need.

  
Once again, Xander knew exactly how he felt. He leaned back against his seat, kicking the one in front of him out frustration. “Part of me wants to charge in there. Pick up a weapon. Give them hell. I’d probably make it to the front door before crumbling.” He shook his head before looking back at Spike with understanding. “I bet that’s how you’re feeling too. Like we’ve been put out to pasture. We don’t have anything to offer anymore. It’s not like they had a choice to keep us here. Wounds heal though, Spike. All wounds. It just takes time. Later on, we can play our part. For now, we just have to trust Buffy. She has a good plan.” Xander nodded his head, though it was hard to tell who he was trying to convince. “They’ll be okay.”  
  
They both took some time to quietly think things over. Their thoughts mirrored each other’s almost perfectly. One might think they were sharing that of the same mind. That feeling of helplessness, thoughts filled with anxiety, and fear for the ones they loved. It was as if they were one person now. Never in a million years would the two of them ever guessed that they could think about a situation so similarly, but now they were both hurting in the same way as they longed to see those school doors open and their loved ones to come rushing out. It seemed to never happen. Minute after minute ticked by, hour after hour, but no one emerged. It was a good sign as all was not lost, but their stomach flipped over more rapidly as the waiting became interminable.  
  
Xander checked back on Spike again, with the sight of the sun starting to greet the day. It was then that he realized that Spike had shifted, as much as he could in his condition. What with his head nosing around, his blanket was starting to slip off him. He stood up and made his way back towards Spike. There was enough possible death taking place, he wasn’t going to have a dusty vampire. Not on his watch.   
  
He kneeled down by Spike and very gently took the blanket up, it dawning on him again just how injured Spike really was. He couldn’t adjust a blanket for himself. He laid there completely helpless. That’s why they were both here after all. They were the helpless. Though Xander could move, he could do things for himself still, and in that moment he actually counted himself lucky. “You’re going to have to stay under there from now on. Sun’s coming up.”   
  
Xander started to get up, but then stopped. He sat down completely by Spike. He was stuck, trapped and confined under there, but that didn’t mean he had to be back here alone. Right now, the only people in the world they knew for certain they had was each other.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Something was happening. Xander stood up to get a clearer vision of what was going on. He could see the Slayers coming towards the bus. Were they all Slayers now? Had Willow’s spell worked? He couldn’t tell by just looking at them, though their running may not have been a good sign. Had the war leaked outside? The ubervamps wouldn’t be part of that fight, but they could have a whole lot of Bringers to take out. That didn’t seem to be the case. They were all climbing aboard the bus. A few of them were injured; someone was helping Wood up and into a seat. Xander continued to eagerly watch more and more people climb onto the bus. Willow had made it, Andrew, more potentials, or slayers? He still didn’t know this yet, but he figured they were probably slayers given the fact that if they remained potentials they’d all most likely be dead.   
  
The commotion had grabbed Spike’s attention too. He once again was peeking out from underneath his blanket as best he could. It had taken a bit of effort on his part, but lifting and shaking his head over and over again had disturbed the pile enough that despite the danger of it he now had a nice little peephole he could look through. To hell with the sun, he needed to see who was making their way onto the bus!   
  
Where was Buffy? Still on the hellmouth? No, that couldn’t be. Why weren’t the rest of them there? They would only have come out if it were over and time to leave. They would only be here if they had been victorious. Shouldn’t Buffy be leading the victorious march out? Or maybe she was simply helping the others out of the school. Yes, that had to be it. It had be. That was when he felt the rumbling of the bus take off.   
  
If Spike could breathe, he would be hyperventilating. What could he do? Should he inform them that they had forgotten someone? Not that he had the means to be able to do so, but there had to be some kind of mistake. This couldn’t be happening. Had he just let Buffy walk right into her death? Why did he have to be so useless? Why was he being such a wuss about a broken body? Why was he letting that hold him back? If he had been in there he could have saved her. He had failed her! Again! She had to jump from that tower two years ago, because he couldn’t keep a promise to help her! And now he was useless to her again. He was supposed to be one of her strongest warriors in this. She had said so countless times. He had been needed, but he was too busy needing to be babied that he hadn’t helped once more. He had let her down. She was gone again because of him! It was all he could do not to throw himself out into the sun that was shining in.  
  
Xander continued to stare at the door, expecting more people to walk through. Really, he was waiting for Anya to come in with some inappropriate comment about how many dead slayers there were. Buffy’s absence was certainly not lost on him. His gaze fell on Willow who shared the same look of concern on her face. No, they were coming. They had to be coming. Even when Giles had put the bus into motion, it didn’t mean that everyone was here. It didn’t mean that at all. His eyes fell back onto the door as if it would open.   
  
 _Any second now…_  
  
 _THUD_  
  
something hit the roof of the bus. What was falling from the sky? A few people looked up in confusion, but with so much chaos around them it was quickly dismissed. The bus carried on, Sunnydale cratering behind them, and it was only when they were just outside of town that they were able to steady to a stop.   
  
The doors opened and those that were well enough made their way out. Xander, who had been injured found that he needed answers. He took hold of Willow as she passed him by, to get support for his injuries while walking, and together they walked out, Dawn following behind them, and Giles after her. Spike was left with panicked new slayers all around him as he closed his eyes in misery.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Everyone gazed out at the crater that was now Sunnydale. There went the little town of horrors. The hellmouth was gone. How? That was one question that most of them shared in that moment. What was so powerful that it could have taken down the hellmouth?   
  
Giles, who was particularly bewildered, stated his curiosity out loud. “What did this?”  
  
Buffy, who had come down from the roof of the bus and joined them, gazed out at the sight laid before her eyes, love, relief, and pain all evident on her face. “Angel.”   
  
As the others continued to take in the sight of the hellmouth, Xander took the opportunity to take Andrew aside.  
  
“So, did you see?” Xander asked.   
  
Andrew kept his eyes down, unable to look at Xander. “I…I was scared. I’m sorry.”  
  
Xander tried once more. “Did you see what happened? I mean, was she…”  
  
Andrew looked up at him now. “She was incredible. She died saving my life.”  
  
Xander reached over and placed his hand on Andrews shoulder, giving him a nod. “That’s my girl. Always doing the stupid thing.”  
  
Andrew smiled a little as Xander joined the rest of the gang back over by the crater formerly known as Sunnydale.  
  
“It looks like the hellmouth is officially closed.” Dawn grinned triumphantly.  
  
“There’s another one in Cleveland. Not to spoil the moment.” Giles bent down, picking a rock up, and tossed it into the canyon.   
  
“You saved the world!” Xander exclaimed.   
  
“We changed the world!” Willow beamed as she walked to Buffy’s side. “I can feel them, Buffy. All over. Slayers are awakening everywhere.  
  
When Buffy didn’t react Dawn spoke up for her. “We’ll have to find them.”  
  
Willow nodded. “We will.”  
  
Dawn began to pace. “Yes, because the mall was actually in Sunnydale, so there's no hope of going there tomorrow.”  
  
Xander smirked. “All those shops gone. The Gap, Starbucks, Toys "R" Us. Who will remember all those landmarks unless we tell the world about them?”  
  
“We have a lot of work ahead of us.” Giles spoke on a more serious note.  
  
Dawn looked towards Willow in response. “Can I push him in?”  
  
“You’ve got my vote.” Willow responded before looking towards Buffy once more. “The First is scrunched, so…what do you think we should do, Buffy?”   
  
“Yeah, Buffy. What are we gonna do now?” Dawn inquired.  
  
Buffy looked from person to person, emotion left off her face, her voice even. “We’re going to L.A. There’s some news I have to deliver.” A moment later, she turned and walked back towards the bus, paying no mind to anyone as she went.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Spike was left to stew. Hardly anything mattered to him anymore. He didn’t much care if he got better or not. He didn’t have anyone to get better for. He didn’t have a purpose anymore. She had been his whole world, but now she was gone.  
  
 _She’s gone. Gone. Gone…_  
  
He thought this over and over to himself until he heard the sound of footsteps make their way back onto the bus. He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and looked up to see Dawn standing in the aisle before him. “Spike. I don’t know if you can tell. Since you’re all flammable and everything, but Buffy’s okay.”  
  
Spike almost shot up from where he lay when he heard that, ignoring the stabbing sensation that came from his ribs when doing so, along with the fact that he could easily catch on fire. Luckily, Dawn had anticipated the action. She quickly took hold of him, shielding him from the sun before moving the blanket back over him again. “Geez, Spike. That’s not going to mean much if you’re too dusty to be around her.” Dawn laid him back down, wary of his injuries. “Just stay put. I think she’s collecting her thoughts. There was a lot to take in. She just needs a little space.”  
  
***********************************************************************

  
Buffy climbed on board the bus, and kept going, down the seat rows, in a slow, halting pace. If someone had looked at her, and some of them were, they would have wondered if she knew where she was from the blank expression on her face. In a lot of ways she didn’t know where she was, or at least she didn’t realize their exact location; her mind was clouded.   
  
No one tried to stop her, but some gave her concerned looks. She didn’t return the eye contact. She wasn’t aware they noticed her. She didn’t notice them at all. Buffy slumped down into her seat.  
  
The Bus was driving now and the fuss around her continued, but still Buffy didn't really see any of it. She was there only in body. In mind, she had not yet left the Hellmouth. The experiences she had down there at the end of the battle kept passing before her eyes, in vivid detail.  
  
It really hadn't gone too well. They may all be slayers now, but they were so few, and so inexperienced. They fought all they could, but girls kept dropping around her, and she too had taken a serious stab to the stomach, which the First of course couldn't resist taunting her over. Oh, she so did not have time for that right then! She ignored it, looked around, and saw Angel fighting his own battles not too far away. She had just started fighting her way over to him when he started glowing. Startled he had to back into a corner, while the other vampires shied away from him. Light was pouring out of the amulet he wore around his neck, and burned the vampires in it's way to ashes. That was great, of course, but if the light was that lethal to other vampires, what would it do to him? She ran over to him, and as she did, she noticed that the whole cave had begun shaking. The other girls were running too, breaking their lines, and hurrying into the protection of his amulet light, and the exit behind him. He had told her that she should go too, save herself, and let him do the rest of the job, with taking down the First and it's army.   
  
She hadn't. She couldn't. So, she just stood there, frozen, looking at him. "No!" she told him. "I'm not leaving you! I can't let you die down here!" He had just smiled at her. "I'm dead already. Should have died centuries ago. And uncountable numbers of others are dead because I didn't. And now all the more lives will be lost, or worse, unless I use the amulet till the end, and stop this apocalypse. There's no other way. I have to do this.” His smile grew warmer, and he added, teasingly "At least you don't have to kill me this time."  
  
"There has to be another way! We can retreat, come back stronger later, and take the First down then!" She had made to grab the amulet and tear it off him, but he stopped her, and shook his head. "When will we be stronger? Too many girls are dead already. And the First's army will keep growing faster than ours. At any later attack It will be all the more prepared." He held on to her hands, which he had grabbed to keep them away from the amulet, and gave both of them a firm squeeze. "The Powers That Be must bless me after all, to let me get hold of this amulet and come here to you with it right now, to have it use my blackened soul to something this good. That’s way more than I deserve."

 

So, that had been it? He didn't want to save his stupid self because he still was stuck in all those old sins he hadn't committed for a while, and felt he deserved to die? "Don't think like that! You no longer have anything to atone for! You're not responsible for Angelus' old crimes. You deserve to live!" He looked at her, with a gaze that was annoyingly steady and relaxed, considering how she was having a breakdown. "No." he replied calmly "At least not when my death can stop the ultimate evil, and save the lives of all the rest of the world." The cave was cracking and thundering all the more violently now. Kennedy had been at the cave opening, yelling at her to come out before it fell down on them, But Buffy kept standing, lost in the situation with Angel. He seemed to have taken more notice of the warning though, as he continued speaking. "But you deserve to survive. To live on. To experience life and love again... With other humans, please?" he added with a grimace. She kept standing, still not letting go of his hands, so he added "Go to L.A., and tell my gang there that I love them, and am counting on them to keep up the good fight after I'm gone, like I would for any of them." He pulled free of her hands and pushed her towards the exit. "Just go!"  
  
And then she had gone, run up through the school, across the roofs of it's buildings, and onto the school bus just as it was leaving the area, never stopped going, untill she was standing with the others watching the crater that once had been her hometown. And then gotten back on the bus, and kept going. Although in her mind, and heart, she had never left.  
  
Willow came and sat down next to her, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to ask what was wrong, not after they had discovered that Angel destroyed the hellmouth and not after she had gotten a few more additional details from Kennedy. She knew what Buffy needed and it wasn’t to be pushed, so she sat there in case her friend was ready to talk.   
  
Buffy turned and faced Willow after a few moments passed by. “You know, he still blamed himself for the things that Angelus did. Even in death. It didn’t matter that he had done them without a soul. That it wasn’t really him. He still felt like he needed to atone.” She shook her head as a hint of bitterness took over. “He had such thanks for the Powers for letting him sacrifice himself for such a worthy cause.”  
  
Willow looked onto her with sympathetic eyes. “It was a worthy cause, Buffy. He saved the world. He destroyed The First’s army. Maybe being able to go out in such a positive way was a good thing for him. He died feeling forgiven.”  
  
Buffy looked at Willow with weary eyes. Her eyes weren’t even sure what emotion they wanted to hold at this point. She was feeling too much. “That doesn’t make him any less dead.” 

  
Willow put her arms around her friend, hugging her close. What else could she do than that? She knew the pain of loss all too well. Even though things were going well between her and Kennedy there wasn’t a day that passed by where she didn’t think of Tara. Willow pulled away and looked at Buffy. “The way you felt about Angel will always stay strong in your heart. That never weakens. The pain does. The pain will. You can trust me on that.”   
  
Buffy looked at Willow for a moment before pulling her back into a comforting hug. Words weren’t what was needed anymore. They had said all they could say. Right now, what was needed was the feeling of her friend’s support. Her caring arms around her could give her the strength to make it through this day. A challenging night lay ahead of them yet. It wasn’t enough that they had stopped the world from ending, but now they had to alert Angel’s team that he had dusted. She didn’t have the strength to do this, but she knew where she could find it, her strength was hugging her close just then.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
That vampire hearing, it never stopped working, even when he wished that it would. Spike had heard every bit of Buffy and Willow’s conversation, despite the comforting words that Dawn was trying to feed him. At the mention of Angel his ears couldn’t help but tune her out while tuning into what Buffy could possibly have to say about him. What his hearing met was not something he ever could have guessed.   
  
Angel was dust. No. That couldn’t be true. It wasn’t as though he had his nose to relay on this time to be able to sense if these were the facts, but he just knew that it couldn’t be possible. Angel didn’t die. Not unless he was being sent to hell by ex-lovers. It seemed that Buffy was the only one with the ability to take Angel out. Slayer after all, it was kind of her duty. This didn’t make sense. What hadn’t Angel faced? He was too much of a pounce to die. Not that Spike cared of course…  
  
He didn’t care. He knew that. He had wanted to stake Angel himself a thousand times over. He was merely surprised by the news. That was it. Angel, Angelus, whoever he was. There were even times that Angel could almost tap into Angelus even though his soul was bright and shiny. How could something as dark and twisted that had once been Angelus be taken out? How could the sodding hero go down like that?  


Angel seemed annoyingly on top of everything. He was out to make a point and drive Spike crazy while doing so. He had this obnoxious little fan club that loved him with no good reason as far as Spike could see. Xander was one example of someone who hadn’t given into his broody charm though. One point for the boy! It didn’t matter now who loved Angel and who didn’t. There was nothing left to love or to hate. His grand-sire was gone. Dust. Never to be able to annoy again. Spike didn’t care. He told himself that the whole way to L.A. He continued to say it to himself even as he felt meaningless tears prickle the back of his eyes. Angel had saved him from the horrible fate with Wood and The First. Angel was his family. Angel had always been there despite the fact that they had never particularly gotten along. Now, Angel was gone. The tears never fully came. Nor did Spike get a grip on what he was feeling. Shock, doubt, upset, and relief all in one. Angel couldn’t have Buffy. Then there was the realization that Angel couldn’t have anything anymore. Angel had saved him from quite possibly never having anything anymore himself. Angel couldn’t prance around like a magnificent poof either. Yet, Angel still couldn’t really be gone, because Spike never had that kind of luck. Angel was Angel, so therefore he couldn’t die. The wheels continued to turn in his head over and over again to the point that even Dawn recognized a change in his mood, despite his being under a blanket. She left him to think and went to comfort Xander. The truth was there wasn’t enough comfort in the world that could help that bus load of people tonight.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Sharp pain. Now, it was feeling almost hard to breathe. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Buffy untangled herself from Willow’s hug and looked down at her wound. Her eyes lifted and then met Willow’s, who seemed to share in the same amount of concern. There was a big and growing stain of blood on her shirt, where her wound was, and she was feeling woozy.   
  
 _Bad. Woozy. Bad._  
  
  
It had to be bad for her to be feeling woozy. That was the point of being a Slayer after all. She wasn’t supposed to feel woozy this easily. It wasn’t easily in this situation. She had been stabbed. Not just stabbed, but a mortal wound was what The First had called it. Not that you could trust the ultimate evil on medical diagnosis; regardless, her body was telling her that this was serious.   
  
“Willow, something’s wrong.” Buffy stated weakly before clutching her wound with her hand.  
  
Willow didn’t hesitate to do the same. Pressure needed to be added to the wound, right? Pressure was important. Pressure kept the blood in. Blood in Buffy was good. A bleeding out Buffy led to no good after all. And no good was…well…no good.   
  
“It’s okay, Buffy. It’s going to be okay.” Willow’s head turned sharply towards the front of the bus. “Hurry up! We have to get to hospital! Right now!”   
  
Buffy laid her head back against the bus seat. “That’s not very reassuring.” Buffy didn’t have the energy to smile and play it off as a joke. It wasn’t a joke. Not really. She was in deep trouble. This was much worse than her run of the mill wounds that she got on patrol. Like the stake she had taken to the abdomen once, maybe. And back then she hadn't been low on blood already before the battle.  
  
“No, don’t worry. They just need to drive fast. When they drive faster we get there sooner. You can get healed up quicker and not feel so bad. You’re the Slayer, Buffy. Or one of them now. You heal up nice and quick. I just want you healed.” Willow spoke a little too quickly and a little too high-pitched. The concern in her eyes also wasn’t doing anything for the case she was trying to make.  
  
Buffy only nodded. She just needed to remember to breathe in and out. In and out. And in and out. Then she would be okay. If she just continued to breathe. That was when everything went dark for her.  
  
Willow held her close frantically, tears streaming down her face now. She couldn’t be strong. Not in this moment. Not with her friend dying. Hadn’t enough people died? Not just today, but their whole lives. She had already lost Tara a year ago. She wasn’t going to lose Buffy again. It wasn’t like she could log onto Ebay and get the magics to bring her back once more. She knew better now. No, losing her wasn’t an option! It couldn’t be an option! Oh God, was Buffy going to die?  
  
“Hurry!” Willow screamed.   
  
Her continual pleas for them to speed up were heard throughout the bus, echoing in everyone’s mind, fear of another loss tearing at their hearts.  
  
“Hurry…!”


	10. Step by Step

  
They had sat in fear in the waiting room for what felt like days, but most likely was merely a few hours. There were so many who were still injured, who was going to be the one to die? Selfishly, but truthfully, they feared Buffy's outcome the most. No one here deserved to die, but over the years, and even today ones they had loved had been taken away from them. It didn't matter if they had already faced her death before, none of them had been willing to except it then, how could they handle it now? They had stayed this way in fear until the news of their friend was finally delivered.  
  
The doctors had told them that she had reached the hospital just in time to get the blood she needed to survive. They had patched her up and kept her there for most of the day, but come nightfall, when Buffy insisted on moving on with the others in the bus, nobody held her back. She was a homeless refugee without any insurance card after all, and after that bus had come, they had plenty enough of those staying there already.   
  
With the hospital trip over with they were now well on their way to the Hyperion Hotel. This was a stop she was not looking forward to making. No one wanted to spread the news that Angel gone. She hated the idea of having to make his friends as miserable as she felt right now. Regardless, they would be there in no time whether Buffy was ready or not. Part of her hoped to get there this instant; she could get it over with and everyone could make their way down the road to recovery. Then there was another part of her, that pesky part, which hoped they’d get stuck in heavy L.A. traffic. Sure, she’d be sitting there fidgeting in anxiety, but at least she wouldn’t be in front of them, Angel’s team’s eyes all fixed on her, demanding that she keep her cool while she give them the horrible news of his demise. No, they’d never expect that. Not with her history with him, but that’s what her position felt like to her. Once again she was called upon to have strength, even if the burden of being a Slayer had significantly been lifted off of her shoulders.   
  
The bus came to a stop. It was time to face the music. She rose from her seat and immediately went to Spike. She had completely neglected him this entire time, lost in her own depressing thoughts. She really wouldn’t have been much help to him in that state anyway.  
  
She gently placed a hand on Spike to stir him in case he was dreaming. She could only imagine what kind of dreams he was suffering through. There it was, more suffering, it never seemed to end.  
  
Spike slowly rose as best he could, seeing that the sun had set now, he didn’t bother to pay mind to the blanket around him. He was thrilled not to be contained any longer, though with his inability to move he might as well be contained within himself. He was no longer a prisoner of chains and torture devices, but a prisoner of body and mind. That didn’t seem much better to him. New pain that was starting to run throughout his body made it all the more difficult to go about each moment. He wanted to be healed, better, and then he could leave all of this behind him. If only he could hurry up the healing process. If only he could get back to who he was and stop feeling like a helpless baby that needed the care of the able adults. If only…  
  
Buffy lifted Spike up, grateful for her super strength, but also once again picking up on how painfully thin he was. Her blood surely helped him, but it was going to take a lot more nourishment for him to start putting on the pounds that he so desperately needed. One thing at a time. First, she needed to get him inside, comfortable, talk to Angel’s friends, and then she could deal with healing Spike. Her list was interminable, but if she went about it one thing at a time maybe eventually everything would be stable again. She’d be able to breathe again. She just needed to be strong for a little while longer. With that thought in mind she looked down at Spike, helpless in her arms as she carried him into the hotel. Fear gripped her by the throat. How could she ever begin to help him? She wanted to so badly, but what if? What if she wasn’t able to? What if she lost him too?  
  
“My word!” Wesley’s voice came out as the gang entered The Hyperion. He stood at the front desk, a book in hand, gazing in shock at his newly arrived guests.   
  
Buffy didn’t hesitate to make herself at home. Well, actually she was making Spike at home. She laid him down on a couch very gently, but she couldn’t help but notice the grimace that fell over his face. He was in pain. She could see how miserable he looked. With a groan of her own, she had to recognize that he wasn't the only one. She was really grateful for that coach, as her injured abs were telling her clearly that they weren't gonna take part in moving him another inch.  
  
“What happened?” Wesley’s voice came through again as Giles and Willow sat down in chairs nearby.   
  
 _Right. Wesley. I have to deal with him too. That’s why we’re here. Angel._  
  
Buffy’s attention had to be everywhere at once and that fact alone felt impossible. It was a lot to handle. She knew that going into this. There was a lot riding on her in that moment, people’s feelings, their welfare, helping everyone through. She could do this, one thing at a time. She just had to remember one thing at a time.   
  
Buffy sat down by Spike’s head, her hand aimlessly running through his hair, comforting him from whatever pain that he was in. “Wesley, we have some news. Are you alone?”   
  
“No…”Wesley looked around.   
  
It was then that Winifred Burkle and Charles Gunn made their way inside the hotel, Gunn carrying a weapon in his hand, leaving it on the counter aimlessly. Their new company had not gone unnoticed. They made their way near Wesley, sharing a mix expression of concern and confusion.  
  
“Everyone, this is Buffy Summers.” Wesley announced.  
  
“ _The_  Buffy…You mean the one that Angel’s so…” Gunn looked to Wesley and then immediately cut himself off.   
  
Buffy looked down. It seemed that Angel had talked about her. He still mentioned her. Of course, he did. She wasn’t cookies yet, but he had wanted her to be after all this time. That wasn’t news to her, but now that he was gone it somehow managed to feel brand new. It hurt all the more because of it.  
  
“So, what’s happening? Look like you need our assistance with something.” Gunn quipped.   
  
Giles spoke up, picking up on his former Slayer’s pain, feeling the need to shield her from the burden of having to explain Angel’s demise. “No, that part is already done. I’m sure you’re aware…”  
  
Buffy cut him off, standing now, not seeing the slight pout that formed on Spike’s face when she had taken away physical contact. “No, Giles. Let me.”   
  
Giles nodded his head understandingly allowing her to go on.

  
“I’m sure Angel told you that there was a mission in Sunnydale. The end of the world sort of deal that seems to happen there on a yearly basis.” Buffy explained.  
  
“Yes, there was something in particular that he had to do for this.” Wesley responded.  
  
Buffy had hoped by the mention of Angel that they would have known where she was going with this already, especially since he was currently not one of the ones with them in the room at the time. Still, you see what it is that you want to see. You make up excuses when the painfully obvious is staring you right in the face. They needed to hear the words; otherwise, their minds would continually protect them from a truth that none of them should have had to face. “That’s right. He did that. He saved the world doing that.” Buffy gazed at them withdrawn. She was on autopilot, speaking but thinking of what she had to do after this. She needed to get Spike comfortable, she needed to see how Xander was doing, she needed to speak with Giles about what the newfound slayers' futures would be. She thought of these things as her mouth kept talking, sharing with them the truth that she didn’t want them to hear. It was a truth that she didn’t want to feel anymore. She was there in body, but never in mind. She couldn’t be. “He was happy. He felt forgiven. He believed he was atoned for the sins of his past. He died a hero.”  
  
At the word died the three of them reacted at the same time. Fred chocked out a sob, Wesley stood in his place stunned, and Gunn looked down in complete disbelief letting out the word “Oh, Man…” that could barely be heard. Grief was hitting them in different ways and Buffy had the pleasure of watching it happen.   
  
“No. He can’t be dead! He just can’t be.” Fred was practically shaking.   
  
Wesley gripped her arms, trying to calm her. “Fred, it’s alright. It’s going to be okay.”  
  
“No, it’s not. Wesley, it’s not.” Fred shook her head as tears streamed down her face. “It’s not right! It’s not fair. He gave the world everything and now he’s a pile of nothing.” Fred fell into Wesley’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder, arms wrapped around him tightly as he held her back with all the comfort he had within him. Gunn was too distraught to even notice   
  
Buffy watched all of them, unable to move, unable to speak. She wasn’t able to do anything at all. It was clear that no one else knew what to do either. Willow was tearing up herself at the sight of pure distraught that filled the air. Xander looked away knowing all too well how they felt at that moment. Giles wore an expression of sympathy. None of them offered anything. What do you offer up in a moment like this? False words of comfort that you have no way of making sure will come true.   
  
Buffy made her way back over to Spike, but didn’t look at him as she sat down. Still, her hands made their way into his hair comforting herself as much as she was comforting him.  
  
Spike wasn't much aware of what was going on around him. He couldn’t hear a word. All he could focus on was the pain that was developing from within. No, it wasn’t just from within. That burning sensation would have been enough, calling it a burning sensation was putting it lightly, but there was an irritating pressure on his exterior. His back, the way he was laying, wounds were awakening.   
  
Bloody hell, Slayer! Are you completely daft? Not in enough pain. Tryin’ to see how much more piled on I can take?  
  
He looked towards Buffy with aggravated eyes.   
  
Buffy gazed at him in confusion. He seemed upset with her. Why? What had she done? She was sitting here, comforting him while delivering very painful news, taking in their pain, trying to ignore her own on top of the exhaustion that she felt. She was taking all of this on and she was still managing to do something wrong!  
  
Spike saw that she wasn’t getting it. Did he have to spell it out for her? He couldn’t right now and the pressure on his back was starting to itch. He tried to wiggle, but it only increased more of the same feeling while managing to jar a few other injuries in the process. He nudged Buffy with his head forcing her attention on him. He wasn’t letting her off until she fixed this. There was nothing that she could do about the sharp pains that he was feeling inside, but she very well could do something about his back, and she was going to!  
  
Realization finally hit Buffy and she jumped up immediately, horrified by her own actions. She knew she was distraught and tired, but was she completely stupid? “Oh Spike, I’m so sorry.” She lifted him up gently off his abused back. She had been so gentle about putting him down, but it didn’t matter how gentle she was, various parts of his back had been stripped of its skin. The bandages provided protection, the blood had helped with the healing, but it was still sore. No wonder he was in such misery. When she sat down, she leaned him up against herself, cradling him, careful of his injuries this time.   
  
Great, Buffy. You’re off to a real good start. Why don’t you give him a good comforting pat on the back while you’re at it? Dummy.   
  
She could feel his body practically shaking. Had it been that bad what she had done to him? He sure was in a lot of pain. She didn’t like this. She needed to stop this for him somehow. She was not going to have him suffer on her account. There had been too much of that. All she needed to do was look around the room and she could see such pain as clear as day. Not for him. No, she was going to help him. He was going to get better and that was final. She could do this! She could do this. Step by step. She could do this. No more fear. No more doubt. Just help him, preferably without damaging his injuries this time around.  
  
The room was quiet, Fred’s sobs had ceased for the time being, as Angel’s team’s eyes fell onto Buffy once more. Fred spoke softly. “Did he?... Did he say anything in his final moments? Did he even have final moments?”  
  
Buffy nodded. “He did. He thought of you guys right to the end. He asked me to tell you that he loves all of you, and that he's counting on you to keep up the good fight now that he's gone, like he would for any of you."  
  
That was all it took to set the waterworks off on Fred again, she hugged into Wesley all the more. Gunn had to look away once again as Wesley stood like stone. It was clear that he was feeling this deeply, it was hitting him hard, but Buffy could tell that he was simply being British about it. Moments passed without words, complete silence, even Fred’s sobbing had ceased. There was nothing. Not a thing to be shared. Depression was strangling them all.  
  
“Who died?” Lorne asked in a sort of amusement as he made his way down the steps of the hotel.   
  
Fred clasped a hand over her mouth at Lorne’s words by means of keeping her tears at bay, a chocked cry escaping nevertheless.  
  
Lorne’s eyes widened in horror as he noticed the condition of the company they were keeping. “Who died?”   
  
No one said anything for a moment.  
  
“Angel!” Fred bawled while hiding her face in Wesley’s neck for the third time since coming home.  
  
Lorne simply sat down on the stairs. Had his ears deceived him? Had he actually heard that Angel was dead? Oh no. No. Not him. Not this too. This was too much. There was no drink in the world strong enough for him to be able to begin dealing with this. He sat there, in shock, gloom, trying to wish it five minutes ago when he was perfectly happy not knowing. No, actually he wanted to will himself three days ago so he could keep him from walking out of this hotel and going to Sunnydale in the first place. Perhaps that wasn’t the heroic thing to do, but it’d beat having his friend dust.  
  
Gunn shook his head. “I’ll tell ya. I knew this world was dangerous, but people around here keep dropping like flies.”  
  
Buffy looked up at him with interest. “Who else have you lost?”  
  
Wesley sighed. “Cordelia is in a coma.”  
  
Now, Xander needed to sit down. Numb, aching, all in one. He couldn’t react. No one could.  
  
Silence took over permanently. There was nothing more anyone could say.  
  
  
  
***************************************************  
  
The hotel was filled with mourning, but still Angel’s team extended hospitality towards them and invited everyone to stay at the hotel for as long as they needed. There was plenty of room after all given that it was a hotel. Since it was no longer used in such a way it wasn’t as if a reservation were needed. It was during this invitation that another suggestion had been brought up. Angel’s team was left without Angel himself. Though each of his team members were capable in their own way, having someone like Angel around allowed for taking on cases to be much easier. Buffy, her friends, this was what they had done for years. So, it was settled. They would join forces. After all, there may now be an abundance of Slayers in this world, but there was also an abundance of evil left. She would always be needed in one way or another and right now it looked as though she was needed her. But first, before that, Spike took priority.  
  
Buffy had found her way upstairs and selected a room that she could stay in with Spike, so that he could relax and be cared for. After snagging pillows from some of the other hotel rooms nearby, she made up a nice bed for him that he could lay on without aggravating his injuries further. She was still chastising herself silently for the carelessness she had afflicted on him earlier. That was not going to happen again. She didn’t care how much was going on, he couldn’t look out for himself right now. He was completely dependent on the people around him and right now, she was his people. She wouldn’t let him down. Not this time.   
  
After the room was set up for him, the curtains drawn tightly against the sun that would rise once morning came, Buffy arranged for Spike to be retrieved from the lobby and carried upstairs. Upon reaching the room he would be staying she helped to carefully angle him down on the bed before sitting by his side facing him.  
  
Before she could ask him how he was doing she saw his body had broken out into an episode of heavy shivers. It wasn’t as though vampires were known for getting cold; They always kept the temperature that was around them, and never seemed bothered by that. This was him reacting to deep pain. All that time he had been downstairs he had been suffering. She had known this to a certain degree, but she chalked it up to her own stupidity. She didn’t know just how bad things had gotten for him. But what was the root cause of it? There were so many injuries it could be any number of them. How was she going to help if she didn’t know the source?   
  
“Spike.” Buffy spoke to him gently.  
  
There was no response. He simply shook and bit down on his bottom lip through the hurt that had taken over his poor abused body.  
  
“Spike.” Buffy spoke a little louder trying to get his attention. This time he looked at her, though it was a gaze glazed over with suffering.  
  
“Spike, where does it hurt?” Buffy inquired.  
  
He stared at her for a moment, processing what she was asking. Confusion fell over his face once her question had soaked in. How was he going to her tell that? He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t point. He had no real way of communicating any of what he was feeling to her. So, he did the only thing he could do, he did a small wiggle with his body as much as he could. If he had the ability to make sound a slight whine probably would have escaped his lips along with it. He felt it rise up in his throat, but there was no escape for it, and that only served to make the burning of his body feel all the worse.  
  
Buffy stared at him baffled before exasperation took over. “Okay. I have no idea what that means.”  
  
Even through the pain Spike was able to give her a pointed look of annoyance.  
  
“Hey. Don’t look at me that way. You try playing charades with…well…you right now! Bet you wouldn’t be giving me lip about it then. Not that you can give me lip, but if you could talk you’d be giving me lip.” Buffy sighed and then thought for a moment. He wiggled. He didn’t look at any place in particular. He just wiggled. Maybe that’s because it wasn’t one place. Maybe it was all of him? “Does your whole body hurt? Well, the wounded areas. Which is basically your whole body anyway.”  
  
Spike rolled his eyes before allowing himself to nod, confirming her thoughts. His face was bright red from the pain that he was in. He was sweating and if he could have the ability there was no question that he would have been breathing heavily too. The prolonged pain came with fresh images of the torture that had caused it. The thought of the scalpel blades cutting through his skin and all the way down to the ribs, before they were broken too had never been able to leave his mind and they certainly were never able to leave his dreams. This was worse, even, than when the chip went off randomly, and nearly made his head explode. Now, there was fierce, burning pressure all the way down his midsection, erupting from the cavity where his lungs should be. He felt stabbed in a hundred different places, where his disjointed fragments of bones were poking out at odd angles and trying to knit themselves together in a better way. His insides were sharp, thorny, and set ablaze. He wanted to holler, but when he opened his mouth there was nothing, not even a squeak.  
  
What was going on? Her heart was pounding in her chest as she scooped him up into her arms very gently. She couldn’t get him out of his curled up position, or as curled as he could get given the condition of his ribs. “Spike, what’s wrong? Show me. What’s going on?”  
  
Her voice sounded so far away he hardly noticed that she was talking. There was nothing beyond the lava that seemed to have been poured within his insides. Spike squeezed his eyes shut tight, willing these sensations away, but all that came was tears spilling down his face, as he was unsure that he could take another second of this torture. There was nothing he could do to give himself the illusion that he was fighting through his suffering. He couldn’t swear. He couldn’t pound on the bed or grip the blanket with his hands. Nothing! He had to lay there and suffer and cry in hysterics like a small child. Again, so much of his behavior reminded him of that of an innocent baby, but this time he found that he was beyond caring.  
  
She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to get an answer from him. He wasn't exactly easy to communicate with these days. What was she going to do? How was she going to help him if she didn’t know what was wrong?   
  
What if I’m losing him? Right now!  
  
No! She didn’t accept that. Pain didn’t kill vampires, even torturous pain. Sunlight, a wooden stake, decapitation, fire, and that oh so special poison Faith had once used could kill vampires. An extreme amount of suffering was not going to make him dust. She was not about to lose him too. He was simply miserable, but that was not something that she was going to stand for either. Enough was enough! She was going to help him. He was going to get better. He was going to be himself again one day, but right now, she needed to get him through this painful healing process. That had to be what it was, the aftermath of receiving so many injuries.   
  
Buffy eyed the way that he was positioned as she gently ran her fingers through his hair trying to provide what little comfort she had to offer in that moment. She took note of where his arms were. They were across his middle, his hands positioned in a way that they remained unbothered, but his arms hovered above the abused area of his ribs. Was it mostly the healing of broken bones? Or…  
  
Then it hit her. Angel’s realization. The reason he had been stitched up. She thought she was going to be sick. In fact, if Spike hadn’t needed her gentle touch just then she most definitely would have given into temptation. He had been operated on. Whoever had harmed him had made it so that he could not speak or breathe. Vampires healed fast, and as she had learned after he had been paralyzed all those years ago, they had an ability of regrowth. That bit of Slayers blood had only done its job to help get the healing going all the quicker. Spike’s lungs were coming back and they were letting him feel it every step of the way. When she got her hands on the person who had done this to him whoever it was was going to wish that she had let The First end the world. Spike was still being tortured by them. They had gotten him out of that lab, freed from the clutches of his captors, and yet he was still continually being hurt. In the midst of all her rage, though, Buffy suddenly got and idea of how to help him.  
  
“Spike, I think I may have something that can help you. Just hold on one second.” Buffy wasn’t sure that he had registered what she had said, but it didn’t stop her from getting up from the bed and dashing from the room. In mere moments she would hold the thing that could take his suffering away. There was no time to waste.   
  
She returned quickly and sat down on the bed besides him, noting that he had not moved since she had left. Though he turned his head up slightly, acknowledging her return. “I have something to help you.”  
  
He tilted his head to the side.  
  
“Look.” She held out her hand revealing painkillers that were resting in her palm. "Pain meds. Potent stuff! These should knock you right out, and give you a long, much needed sleep.  
  
Spike saw the pills in her hand and heard her words, and then suddenly, he was no longer there. He was back standing at Buffy's lawn in Sunnydale, alertly searching for any Bringers, or other nasties that the First might have brought with it. Then he saw Wood pulled out that gun, and a second later, felt the sting of the dart in his neck, and the irresistible drowsiness that came with it and took him down.   
  
Spike eyed the painkillers in horror, backing away as best he could, shaking his head madly in protest. He needed the use of his hands. He needed a better more fit body. He needed to be able to get those things away. More than that, he needed speech. She needed to understand that there were no way in Hell that he'd let himself fall into such drug induced sleep ever again! It was lost on her. The confused look on her face showed him just that. How could he make her see?  
  
Buffy was confused to say the least. She thought he would have been relieved, scooped the pills up fast, and given her a look that told her she was a moron for not thinking to do this sooner. Instead, well, it seemed as though he thought she was a moron for trying to ease his suffering. Did he want to suffer? Was this some weirdo side effect that came along with his soul that made him think he deserved to suffer? Then again, he had allowed himself to heal up from past tortures as well as allowing for her to care for him in the past. What was this? What was causing this reaction? What could have been done to him while he was away that would make him so resistant to a few harmless pills?   
  
“Spike. What’s wrong?” She slowly inched herself closer to him, but continued to keep a safe enough distance. She didn’t want to startle or intimidate him while he was in this frame of mind. He clearly needed his personal bubble while she held what he considered to be as bad as poison. “Help me understand.”  
  
He gave her a frustrated, desperate look. He couldn’t make her understand. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t write. He couldn’t gesture. There was nothing he could do, aside from being adamant that he was not going to accept her offering. He continued to give the pills pointed angry looks, shook his head at her again, slow and firmly, and pressed his jaws together, into something like a soundless snarl. His arms tensed up, as if getting ready to reach out and toss those things away, although of course, his splintered, useless hands would be in no shape even for that.  
  
She met his eyes for a long moment, then she shook her head herself, sighed, and put the pills aside on the nightstand. She slowly approached him, and felt the tension in his body slowly decrease. It was still very much there though, so with her free hand she brushed a strand of hair aside that had fallen in his face. “No pills. See. I’m pill-less.” She paused as she felt his body ease up if only slightly more. It was progress anyway. “I don’t know why you’re so against this. I’m not going to hurt you. You do know I’m not going to hurt you, right?”  
  
Spike gave her a sore stare, but nodded, cautiously.  
  
“Good. Right. You know that.” He had known it, but she didn’t know what had been done to him. Aside from what had physically been done to his body, what had he been told while he was down there? How had it been? He might have been gone for a long time. How long had he been made to be silent during that time? Honestly, that was something she didn’t want to think about right now. She would spare herself these details until he could and was ready to talk about it. If he was ever ready to talk about it.   
  
“So, if you know that I’m not going to hurt you then you know I’d never give you anything that was going to hurt you. In fact, it’s medicine that will make you feel better. You’re in a lot of pain right now when you don’t have to be. If you take them you’ll be able to get some rest in peace.” Buffy kept her eyes locked with his as she spoke, hoping against hope that she was getting through to him.  
  
Unfortunately, the protesting glares began again as his body started back up with the tension.   
  
She wasn’t backing off! She wasn’t backing down! He said no. Didn’t he get a choice? He was away from the nightmare cabinet and yet nothing was really his choice anymore here either. They did with him as they needed to, washing him, bandaging him up, and now these stupid pills that he had made it more than clear that he had no intention of taking, without ever stopping up, and asking what he actually meant about things that was happening. Why couldn’t his choice of no be enough? Why couldn’t he be spared something that he didn’t want done to him? He wasn’t a captive with her and yet so far, minus the torture, he could see some similarities.   
  
There was nothing more that she could do. She couldn’t force him to take the pills and he was clearly adamantly against the idea.   
  
“Okay. We’ll just rest right now. How does that sound? We’ll just rest.” Buffy spoke softly. If he insisted on remaining in pain, she was at least not gonna let him go through it alone.  
  
She noted the bewildered expression on his face when she said that, but as she opened up her arms for him to lay down close to her, he didn’t hesitate to oblige. He fell into her arms, pain causing his body to shake once again.  
  
She seemed to finally understand! There may have been fire burning him from within, but at least it was his choice to have it there. For the first time in so long he had comfort and warmth to help him through the pain. No such thing had been offered when he had been trapped by Wood’s hands. He didn't want to miss a moment of it. Didn't want to pass out, and lose this wonderful, warm feeling of her renewed support. Even if he hadn't needed those horrible pills to do so. He wanted to bask in the feeling of Buffy’s arms, despite the torture that still managed to follow him.  
  
The softness of her embrace was of recognition, but sadly the feeling of bone and organ regrowth was resilient in making sure that it was known better. Once more he found himself desperate to clutch onto something, but was forced to take it without any way to fight back. The tears came again, he opened his mouth to yell out, but silence was the only result. Soon this would not be the case, but by the time he could cry out it would no longer be needed, that was the horrible irony.  
  
Buffy positioned herself back against the pillows, so they could both rest for the night, though sleep was not likely to come. She continued to hold him, careful of his injuries. She had never seen pain like this before and she had been slaying since she was sixteen years old. Right now, this moment, the look on his face, the need to cry and howl, that was an image that would not soon be forgotten.   
It was haunting.   
  
She wanted to rub his back, but it was damaged. She wanted to hold his hand, allow him to squeeze her own, but again it was damaged. Every possible way that she could think to add to soothing him would result in pain. She settled for holding him close and allowing her fingers to caress his hair on occasion. It was something, but it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t feel like the right action for this. Then again, maybe nothing was. If only he would have taken those painkillers, if only he weren’t so turned off from them for reasons that she couldn’t begin to understand. How could a few pills be such a bad thing? Yet, he was so determined to suffer. He had his reasons and she would have to hold him through them even if she couldn’t understand them. Maybe when he finally got his speech back some light could be shed on things, but for now her heart would break for him and she would do her best to help him through what was proving to be a very difficult night.  
  
There they lay, pain and comfort, tears and silence, but remaining a support for one another although unaware just how much Spike’s presence meant to Buffy just then. Perhaps it was best that she wasn’t alone that night, not after losing so many people. At least they had each other, even if the details weren’t ideal, she had him and he had her. Right now, each other was what they needed most out of everything in the world. The night was sleepless, painful, and hard to bear, with her own injury making it's presence known along with his, but it was due to each other that it was possible to make it through.   
  
**************************************************  
  
Xander was having a sleepless night too. It hadn’t sunk in for hours, the death of his ex-girlfriend Anya. Could they have ever worked things out? Had their ending really been final? Xander didn’t know that there was a clear answer to that. He loved her, but it didn’t seem to work anymore, yet they continually fell together regardless. Then he had learned about Cordelia's condition. Another woman whose relationship he had shared was out. That was certainly unexpected. It seemed that he constantly found himself with blunt women. It also seemed he lost them.  
  
Lost…  
  
The news of Cordelia’s condition had come up slamming reality in his face. He hadn’t seen her in years. Truth was he didn’t know who she was now. He remembered that high school girl who had fallen for a nerd like him. She was hot and cold. She was the Queen Bee, but had softness underneath. How had she changed from the self-centered girl she had once been? He wasn’t who he was before. There were personality traits that had never left him and never would. Still, he had developed, grown, become who he was going to be, or at least was on the right track now. His thoughts fell back to Anya. She had been on the right track too, human wise, understanding the customs more. Now, she’d never continue her journey; make her billion that he was sure she of all people would be able to do. Marriage, kids, money, it’d never happen for her…or Cordelia. Was he simply going to lose everyone who had ever meant something to him? He had already lost Buffy two years ago, granted Willow had brought her back, but this was an ugly pattern he couldn’t help but notice.   
  
When he couldn’t take the tossing and turning anymore he sat up in bed. He was exhausted, but nothing would come of it. He hadn’t slept the night before. Now it seemed he wasn’t going to be doing so tonight either. More negative patterns emerging. Even so, laying here with the women of his life screaming in his head would do him no good either. Xander stood up, found some clothing, and left.   
  
There was some place he needed to go, someone he needed to see, though the hour of the night was not ideal, but he could work around it. He had faced much fiercer things than visiting hours in a hospital.   
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Xander had managed to slip into Cordelia’s hospital room unnoticed. It had taken a lot of watching and patience, but eventually he found himself standing in front of her motionless form. She looked peaceful, as though she were only sleeping, and in a way you would never look at her and know that she was fighting for her life.  
  
“Cordelia. It’s Xander. I know it’s been a long time, but honestly I’m here because…I’m here because…” He slumped down into a chair by her bed as defeat swept over him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here at all. I wanted to see how you were doing, I guess. Spend some time with you again. I’ve been having a really rough time since you left. Well, a few of them, actually. It looks like you have too.”   
  
He gave a halfhearted laugh. “Well. Anyway. I found my way in this world. A place when I didn’t know if there was meaning for me. I’ve loved and lost.” He looked down. “I just keep losing. You recognize that feeling? What is it with this world? Is it the lifestyle we're choosing or is everything really this complicated? Painful. I guess we should've stuck together, huh? Run away together after high school, to a place safe and demon free. Yeah, I know... Not like that was ever an option. I guess all I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry. For hurting you, back then. For not keeping up. For never recognizing that you were in danger, and had ended up like this." He grabbed her limp hand, and was working hard not to cry. "It's what I do, huh? Love and lose. I've just lost another. Anya. You'd like her. Or then, maybe not... We were an unlikely match, but kept getting closer, until I totally failed her about a year ago. Lately, things were warming up again a bit, we were growing closer again, and then she's gone for good! Story you recognize, huh?" Now he was crying, albeit only a little. "She's dead. Down on the Hellmouth, from staying off yet another apocalypse." He squeezed Cordelia's hand tighter and stared at her intensely. "Please don't die you too!"  
  
He stood up and started pacing. “It’s frustrating. It angers me. It’s…It’s…there’s so much evil that just keeps coming. I’ve dedicated years of my life, helped take down countless amounts of it, and they just keep coming. Killing the people that I love. Taking half my sight! I’m just…so! Angry. I’m tired.”  
  
Xander sunk back down in the chair next to her and took her hand. “I can’t lose you too. I don’t know who you are now, but I can’t afford to lose you too.”  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Buffy didn’t need to wake up that morning. In fact, neither one of them did, because sleep had not been had the night before. It was next to impossible for either one of them to get any shuteye what with what Spike was experiencing inside of him. The pain seemed to come in waves. It rose to an unbearable heights that would have surely woken up the hotel had he had use of his lungs. Then it would die down, a time of peace, but it never lasted long enough that he could fully fall into slumber.   
  
Things hadn’t been a picnic for Buffy either. As she tried to rest with him it turned out the bed was much too narrow for the two of them if they both were to have space to actually sleep. She found that her own injury was jostled in the process and it seemed that he wasn’t the one who was in need of the painkillers after all. She hadn't taken any herself either though, in solidarity, and for fear of falling off the bed if she were to actually fall asleep. The night had been complete and utter hell. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t lay here and watch him be in pain while going on no sleep. How long did it take organs to regrow anyway? How long did Spike really think he was going to be able to keep this up for? How long did he think she was going to be able to keep this up? No sleep and watching him suffer; it wasn’t something that she was sure that she could stomach. The only reason he wasn’t crying now was because he didn’t have anything left to cry. His eyes were dried out, they were completely bloodshot, and probably sore from the work out they had received for hours upon hours last night.   
  
She found that the closer the sun came to rising the more and more her patience was running out and she had to constantly remind herself that it wasn’t him she was mad at. This wasn’t his fault. It really wasn’t. This was something that had been done to him, mind and all. He was not the one she wanted to take her frustration out on. He was not the one that had placed this ridiculous anxiety within him, though she couldn’t fathom where it could have possibly come from, it was there nevertheless. She needed to make him see reason. She had to. They were both in pain now and you know what could take that away? Pills. Nice wonderful pills that doctors give out to prevent what they were going through. He was old now. Way old. He was probably around during the time of the painkiller invention. He of all people should know the benefits that came along with it, having been witness to the miracle of it for some time now.  
  
Breathe. It’s not his fault. Just breathe. Take things step by step. Remember? Step two: Get the stubborn vampire some relief!  
  
“Spike.” Buffy sat up, wincing from the pain she felt from her injury. 

  
Spike’s eyes fluttered open. Though he had not been asleep, he had been making an attempt at resting them.   
  
Her eyes met his curious gaze and she couldn’t help but feel exasperated. He was really wondering what this could be about? Really? How could he not know what this was in regards to? Hadn’t he been here all night? She had no idea what he was actually going through, feeling inside, but from the looks of it, it wasn’t pretty. “I can’t go through another second of this. This has to stop.”  
  
Spike gazed at her slightly taken aback by her tone. She had been so gentle all night, so helpful holding him through everything, and now it was as though he were with a different person. If his body wasn’t trembling so much, if clear ache and pain wasn’t written across his face, he might have wished that he had pretended that he was asleep so he didn’t have to face this frustrating, sudden mood change.  
  
“You’re hurting. Do you understand that you don’t have to be?” Buffy reached over and grabbed the bottle of painkillers that were on the nightstand nearby. “This will help you. Why won’t you let me help you?”   
  
Spike gave her his most determined glare once again. No, he wasn’t taking those. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be left vulnerable. He was not gonna surrender his consciousness like that again. It wasn’t happening! Didn’t she get that? He thought she had understood, or at least was willing to respect his wishes. Yeah, the night had been rough. He was aware. He had been the one going through it. But it was worth it. The thought of being drugged scared him more than all the pain he had been through tonight ever could. Pain, he could endure. He was used to it. But that total loss of whatever control he had left, the loss of consciousness, that those pills entailed, was unbearable.  
  
“No. Don’t give me that look. I can’t watch this anymore! Do you have any idea what it does to me to see you laying there in pain? Do you know how hard it is to watch someone you care about suffering for hours on end without any way to help? There is a way to help and if you could stop being so thick-headed you’d let me do this for you. It’s not that big of a deal. They’re painkillers, Spike. They kill the pain, not you!” Buffy didn’t mean to speak so harshly. In fact, she didn’t realize the tone that was coming out of her. She was exhausted, mentally and emotionally for so many different reasons in that moment. She couldn’t fix so many of those reasons, but this she could fix. This was something she could do, and she was going to do it, and Spike would be better for it.  
  
Spike continued to give her death glares, and he tensed up again. This couldn’t happen…this couldn’t…  
  
Then several things happened at once. Buffy, with pills in her hand, bent over him and grabbed his jaw, physically prying his mouth open and forcing the pills in. At the same moment, Spike's fangs came out, and he tore into her hand, fiercely enough to draw blood. Buffy drew back in shock, staring at her bleeding fingers, while Spike turned his head to the side, and spit the pills out, with such force that they flew all across the room, and bounced off the opposite walls. Then he faced her, with a look that both mirrored her own shock and exuded pure, undulated fury. Buffy drew back, and bolted.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
As Buffy made her way out of the hotel room, eyes on her hand, she felt herself bump into something. She lifted her head up and realized that it wasn’t a something, but rather a someone. “Sorry, Xander.”  
  
Xander stared down at her hand without saying anything.  
  
Buffy quickly let her bleeding hand drop to her side as she said awkwardly. “It’s…It’s nothing.” She really wasn’t in the mood for giving an explanation right now. She just wanted to get her hand bandaged up. It seemed like that would be the real step two after all rather than helping Spike feel better. He was too out of control in that second to take her help.   
  
“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Xander commented.  
  
Buffy sighed. “It’s fine. I don’t need your help. I can handle this.” She brushed past him.  
  
“That also didn’t look like handling things.”   
  
Xander’s remark stopped Buffy in her tracks. She slowly turned around. “What?”  
  
“What was that?” Xander gestured towards the shut room.  
  
“Were you spying on us?” Buffy took an angry step forward.  
  
“No. I just came back to the hotel. After…after having gone out. The door was open a crack. I heard a noise, checked in, and saw you getting a little rough.” Xander folded his arms.  
  
Buffy could have been knocked over with a feather in that moment. “You’re taking his side?”  
  
Xander paused at the statement. The idea did sound odd, even to him, but he had seen what he had seen. “Buffy, the guy’s completely thrashed.”  
  
“I was trying to help him.”  
  
“I think you forgot to mention that to him.” Xander stated pointedly.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this. My hand is bleeding. I have to take care of that. Then, I have to take care of him.”  
  
She stormed down the hallway, but Xander was right by her side. She wanted to tell him to go away. Who was he to lecture her? Yes, everyone had been through a lot, but she had to keep going. She had to keep Spike from becoming one more loss. Didn’t he understand that’s the only thing she was trying to do? Instead he was judging her for having to take a few extra measures to dull Spike’s pain. Yes, okay, she could see how it probably looked bad, but Spike didn’t realize that she was doing it for him. Once he felt better he’d recognize that she had done it to help not hurt. Instead of seeing that, trusting her, Xander was getting all judgy. What was it with everyone ganging up on her when she was only helping to save them?  
  
Buffy started towards the stairs, but then turned and looked at Xander. “Are there a lot of people down there?”  
  
“What’s the matter? Don’t want everyone to see your vampire bite wound?” Xander retorted.  
  
“I thought you were on his side.” Buffy glared.  
  
“I don’t like the fact that he bit you. Vampire. No chip. Biting. Who in their right mind would be comfortable with that?”  
  
Buffy sighed. “He’s not in his right mind.”  
  
“Oh. Well that makes it better.”   
  
Buffy turned angrily and made her way down the stairs. She needed to get her wound cleaned up. Everyone else was just going to have to deal right now. Xander included!  
  
She was relieved to see that there was no one in the lobby at the moment, so she was able to make a quick dash for the bathroom nearby. Of course, as she was opening the door to walk inside Fred and Willow made their way around the corner deep in a conversation. Only, it wasn’t so deep that they didn’t notice the blood dripping from Buffy’s hand.   
  
“Buffy, what happened?” Willow asked in concern as she neared her.  
  
“Nothing, I’m…”  
  
Willow grabbed her hand, examining it, eyes widening when seeing the fang marks.   
  
“…fine…” Buffy finished.  
  
“Spike bit you.” Willow looked up in concern.  
  
“It wasn’t like that.’ Buffy pushed her way inside the bathroom, going over to the sink.  
  
“I’ll get the first aid kit.” Fred dashed off.   
  
“Well, what happened?” Willow asked as Buffy ran her hand under water, washing the blood away.   
  
Buffy sighed. “Look, it’s just a bite. It’s fine. It’ll heal. I have that wonderful slayer healing after all.”   
  
“Here you go.” Fred chimed in as she made her way into the bathroom, placing the First Aid kit on the counter.  
  
“Spike doesn’t want to take medication…” Xander began.  
  
“Xander!” Buffy shouted.  
  
“What? If you aren’t going to explain it I will!” Xander matched her tone.  
  
“Wait, you were there?” Willow’s eyes fell on him.  
  
“No, he wasn’t.” Buffy answered for him.  
  
“I saw it.” Xander challenged.  
  
“Seeing isn’t the same thing as being there.” Buffy argued right back.  
  
Fred remained quiet through the whole exchange, gently taking Buffy’s hand as she was doctoring it up, going unnoticed.   
  
“Then you tell it or I will.” Xander’s face made it very clear that he wasn’t bluffing.  
  
“You’ll tattle?” Buffy spoke in disbelief.   
  
“It’s not tattling. There are two very important issues here. One of which is the biting vampire upstairs.” Xander stated heatedly.  
  
“He has been through a lot…” Willow spoke with a weakened defense.  
  
“Oh I know.” Xander spoke and once again received a look of surprise. He supposed he couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t like he had been any vampire’s cheerleader over the years. “I get it. He bit her. It’s still a big deal, but why he did is an even bigger deal.”  
  
“Well, then, maybe someone should tell me what actually happened? You know, leaving it up to the imagination, what with Spike and the biting. Not a good thing with me. We’ve had our history. Remember?” Willow spoke in a non-judgmental but factual tone.  
  
“Fine. It’s not that big of a deal. He was up all night in pain. Neither one of us slept. He refused to take any painkillers that could ease the pain away and put him to sleep. For some reason he was really resilient on the fact that he wouldn’t take them, but this morning he was still suffering from what happened to him. His organs regrowing, which is majorly yuck by the way. So…” Buffy’s voice trailed off.  
  
“So…what?” Willow questioned.  
  
“I couldn’t stand watching him suffer anymore. I told him that he needed to take medication for this, so when he refused again I got firm.” Buffy explained.  
  
“Firm? You tried prying open his mouth and shoving the pills down his throat!” Xander clarified.   
  
Shock fell over the faces of Willow and Fred, who even stopped what she was doing to look up at Buffy, stunned.  
  
Buffy felt like shrinking. She wanted to disappear under the expressions that she was getting from Willow and this woman she didn’t even know. “What? I was trying to help him…”   
  
“Buffy…he’s been through a lot. We don’t even know how much, but what we do know he went through was pretty intense.” Willow spoke in horror.  
  
“I know that! You think I don’t know that? I’m the one who found him? I’ve seen and dressed every wound that he had. I gave him my blood to help him heal!” Buffy’s defenses rose.  
  
“Yeah that’s great and everything…but…” Xander began.  
  
“You took his choice away. You made him a captive again!” Fred spoke up cutting Xander off, surprise falling over her features over how forthright she had been. She swallowed. “Well. I just…I just mean that he’s been missing. From what I heard. He was taken. Against his will. So, this, what you did. It was against his will. Right now, now more than ever, it’s important for him to understand that he has choice again. Choice is very important to someone’s who had that taken away for so long…”  
  
At this point Xander chipped in "You don't know Spike. I don't think he could forget that. No one can make him do anything he doesn't want to do."  
  
Willow smiled a little. Fred gave him a pointed look. "I'm just saying, he's had very little control over anything since he's been missing. He's still kinda helpless. I think it's very important for him to hold on to what little control over his life that he has left. Which includes not getting forced to sleep".   
  
“Well…”Buffy sighed. Okay, this Fred had a point, but "…he was in so much pain. I didn’t want him to suffer anymore…”  
  
Willow saw the sincerity in her friend’s eyes. She knew how much she had come to care about Spike. There was no question that Buffy had meant well, but she hadn’t done good by him this time. In fact, Willow was worried that she had done a lot more damage by that one act. No one knew what was going through his head. He couldn’t tell them, but it seemed that to a degree he had figured out a way to be vocal. Leave it to Spike. “I know, but sometimes emotional pain is worse than physical pain and that’s something that we really have to avoid causing him more of.”  
  
“Where is he?” Fred inquired.  
  
“Why?” Buffy looked at her almost protectively.  
  
“I’m not... I wouldn’t hurt him. I was just thinking, well maybe… maybe I could find out what’s on his mind. See if...maybe I can help. He shouldn’t be in any more pain than he has to be. I might be able to talk to him.”   
  
“If the Buffster couldn’t get him to take pills I don’t think anyone can.” Xander rolled his eyes. The feelings that was obviously between the two of them wasn’t something that he particularly loved even if he didn’t hate Spike with every fiber of his being anymore.  
  
“It doesn’t seem like she tried persuading him in the right way.” Fred quickly looked at Buffy. “No offense. Maybe if someone new tried. Someone he doesn’t know. He might not feel so pressured.”  
  
“He might be uncomfortable with someone that he doesn’t know. Especially after what he’s been through. I should go. I’ve known him for basically as long as Buffy has.” Willow decided.  
  
“True, but, well I have experience. Sort of. With what he’s been through…”  
  
Three sets of eyes fell on her, understanding of her insight suddenly making sense.   
  
“He might try to eat you too.” Xander quipped, breaking the awkward silence.  
  
“Shut up.” Buffy snapped.  
  
“Hey. I get it. It was kind of his only defense, but he might not be too trusting and fly off the handle if someone even so much as mentions pills to him.” Xander spoke logically.  
  
“I think I can handle myself.” Willow looked over at Buffy. “We’ll let you know how it goes.”   
  
Fred and Willow made their way out of the bathroom leaving Buffy and Xander behind. Buffy looked down at the ground, unable to speak as Xander stood besides her, battling his own contradictory feelings.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Willow and Fred couldn’t stand the sight that they had walked in on. Spike, lying on his side, his face reddened with agony. It was known that he had been hurt and everyone had seen the condition he was in, but that was before organ regrowth had reared its’ ugly head. Here no one had thought he could have been in worse shape than he already was. Willow knew that Buffy was going through a lot, but had she really gotten rough with him when he was looking like this?   
  
 _She was trying to be helpful. In a way._    
  
When seeing all the pain he was in, she could kinda relate to the need to make it stop right now. But her way really wasn't the right one to go about it in. Willow really hoped she could do better.  
  
Fred took a small step forward, taking initiative. Someone needed to or he was going to be lost in what he was going through alone. It didn’t seem like too many people knew what they were doing when it came to him. Buffy was letting him see her frustration and the man with the eye patch was clearly too conflicted to be much help. Willow could prove to be helpful in this situation, but right now she wasn’t taking any chances. The pattern of this poor vampire’s support was not good so far. “Hi.” She spoke softly as she went to the side of the bed. “My name’s Fred. Would you mind if I sat with you for a little while? I won’t get too close or anything if you don’t want me to.”  
  
If Spike heard her he didn’t make any indication of it. He seemed to be trapped within the pain, though Willow suspected that it wasn’t just physical pain that he was lost in. Right now, the person that he needed most was Buffy and she didn’t seem in the right frame of mind to be able to handle it. She could relate to it more than she liked, but it still didn’t make her friend the right candidate for the comforting and soothing job just yet. “You know, Buffy isn’t mad at you.”   
  
Spike raised his head at Willow’s comment.  
  
 _Bingo! I know that vampire like the back of my hand._  
  
“She just needed a bandage. No biggie. Easy fix.” Willow smiled at him reassuringly.  
  
Spike looked puzzled at her comment. He didn’t get it. Why was she being so chipper, especially after what he had done? He half expected them to have come in here with sharp pointy stakes and a bottle of holy water. Instead, they were being nice? He couldn’t comprehend it. He wouldn’t have blamed them for reacting any other way. Buffy was the last person he wanted to hurt or lash out against. He didn’t feel good about it. It was what had to be done to protect himself. Yet, there was that voice in the back of his head that continued to remind him how surprised he really felt, that after all this time, the progress they had made as friends, she would go against him like that. It hadn’t been about his needs for so long. He was kinda hoping now would be the time. She did care. He knew that, but he was still troubled by her actions. He was troubled by his own. He was in pain. He just needed all of it to stop. There was too much noise in his head and weakness in his bones. He was hurting, unable to speak, unable to be himself. He was nothing right now. No wonder she wanted to knock him out with pills.   
  
“Spike…”  
  
He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, causing him to look in the direction of the brunette girl who had taken a seat on the bed.  
  
She quickly removed her hand from his shoulder, afraid he didn’t want to be touched. Sometimes you didn’t want to be touched when in pain. Sometimes after being tortured by someone for a long time you didn’t want to be touched by someone you didn’t know either. She needed to be careful not to cause him discomfort. There had been enough of that already. “You know we’re here to help you, right?”  
  
“Right. No one here wants to hurt you.” Willow helped out. “In fact, we talked about this with Buffy in the bathroom when she was getting herself fixed up. She told us what happened. What she did wasn’t right, Spike.”  
  
It was baffling to him. The brunette girl didn’t know either of them, but Willow was Buffy’s best friend, not his. Yet, she was trying to tell him that she had defended him when he was so conflicted himself on his own actions. He didn’t trust this at all, not right away. Willow wasn’t one for playing games, but shoes always dropped, especially when you were him.  
  
Fred noted the skepticism on his face. She didn’t blame him. “Buffy meant well, but that doesn’t mean she handled it well. There’s a difference. I see it, Willow sees it…”  
  
“Even Xander gets that much.” Willow added in. “If you’re not comfortable doing something then it’s okay. No one should go all wrestle-chick on you and force you into something that you’re not comfortable with. You don’t want to take painkillers then you don’t have to. You don’t even have to explain why.”  
  
Spike lifted an eyebrow at her as though she could hardly mean what she said.  
  
“We’re serious.” Willow took a seat on the other side of Spike now, coming down to his level, so they could really speak face to face. “You and I have known each other for a long time. We’ve seen a lot of each other with the fighting and the Scooby meetings, and in a weird way, we even ended up talking buddies before that, on occasion.”  
  
 _Goin’ to get to the point? Hard enough to focus with my insides ablaze.  
_  
With that thought in mind Spike’s face contorted in pain. He continually hated himself for appearing so weak.  
  
Fred didn’t seem to care, suddenly her arms were around him, and she was holding him close, comforting him through the pain. She knew that she had been trying to give him his space, it was best not to crowd him, but she couldn’t help herself. When she saw someone in pain, after going through such a terrible ordeal, she couldn’t bear to just leave them there to suffer. She was careful though, ready to let go at any sign that he was uncomfortable with her embrace, but he seemed to melt into her arms right away.  
  
Willow knew that Spike had to be in a lot of pain to be accepting of such coddling, but then he had gone so much time without comfort, without a kind word, or a pleasant conversation, he probably craved it deep down inside. Maybe his craving for it wasn’t so deep, though she was sure that when he was well enough, if anyone tried it on him they’d probably be told off.  
  
She waited for the pain to dull down again a little before carrying on. When he seemed to be resting comfortably enough in Fred’s arms, she picked up where they had left off. “Like I was saying before. In all the time that we’ve known each other, and it’s been awhile, have I ever made a habit of lying? I know…I know that I haven’t been perfect. You’ve seen me at some of my worst places in my life. But over the years, would label me a liar?”  
  
Spike looked at her curiously before shaking his head.  
  
“Good. Then you’d know I’d tell you the truth, especially where it concerns Buffy. Cause I’m the best friend. So for me to tell you that I think what she did was wrong not respecting your choice, well then I’m probably not lying. When I say that we’re going to respect what you want, that’s the truth too.” Willow explained patiently.   
  
“Spike, you’re free. You’re not under anyone’s control anymore. The only person you have to answer to is yourself. I know that’s hard to believe at first. You keep flinching. Waiting to get in trouble for doing what you’re doing, making your own decisions, or wondering when someone is going to come and get you again. It’s normal to feel that way…” Fred began.  
  
Willow interjected. “After what you’ve been through, it’s very understandable to be really jittery and not wanting to lose control again”  
  
Fred nodded in agreement. “Right. It’s why no one should try to make you do something that you’re not comfortable with, especially with the limited communicated you have going. Then it’s really not fair. So, we mean it when we say that we won’t push.”  
  
Spike’s skepticism softened, but the tension still remained his body.   
  
Willow read the meaning of this. A few reassuring words weren’t going to convince him so easily, not after what he had gone through being held captive and certainly not after what had happened this morning. She needed to prove it. “Do you want to take a painkiller, Spike?”  
  
Spike’s troubled gaze fell on her. He shook his head no adamantly. Where had she been the past hour? Wasn’t that what caused this problem in the first place? He didn’t want what seemed to be the only answer. He may have felt badly over biting Buffy, but that didn’t mean he was willing to give in and submit himself to another chemical knock out.   
  
“Then we’ll put the sedatives away. There are other things you can take. Something softer that will take the edge off. Sedatives aren’t the only thing that’s out there for pain management.” Willow paused thoughtfully. I’m sure this place has Aspirin.” Willow offered, her point made clear.  
  
So, there it was, another solution, one that fit his needs. He didn’t know what to make of all of this. It felt, well, it felt nice to have someone, or people rather, in his corner. He knew that Buffy was, but she had flipped out in the moment that he had refused her wishes. Now there were two women rushing to his aid, working out a compromise to the issue, that both he and Buffy might live with. It wasn’t like he didn’t want pain relief. He just needed it in a way that wouldn’t rob him of his consciousness. He knew the standard weak meds did no such thing.

  
“So, will you take it then?” Willow asked hopefully.  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy sat glumly at the bottom of the stairs. No one seemed to notice of those occupying the lobby as they all shared the same expression on their face. She found herself lost in the events of the day. How could the day already have events? It was only morning! Yet, here she was, apparently having already started making mistakes in Spike’s care. It was frustrating. He needed help, so she had been helping him.  
  
 _Okay, so maybe I got a little rough. But he wasn’t cooperating! Stubborn vampire._  
  
He couldn’t go on in that pain. She couldn’t go on watching him in that pain. No one else seemed to see it that way. Was she wrong here? She could have had a bit more patience, but he could be so frustrating sometimes!   
  
“Buffy.” Willow’s voice broke Buffy’s train of thought.  
  
Buffy immediately stood up as Xander made his way over from across the room. Buffy spoke. “How is he?”  
  
“Calmer.” Willow paused. “Fred’s still with him. We got him to take some Aspirin. It’s not as strong, but it’ll take the edge off at least.”  
  
Buffy almost pouted. “You got him to take something.”  
  
“Yeah. With a little conversation.” Willow explained.”  
  
Conversation?  _I had plenty of conversation with him!_ Buffy had to keep herself from yelling out. How was it that she could have all the conversation in the world with him, hug him through the night and he wouldn’t take a thing from her, but Willow goes waltzing in there he’s sucking down pills? Granted, it wasn’t the hefty painkiller kind she had been offering, but it was something. That was a lot more than she had gotten.  
  
“Buffy, I know that a lot has happened. You’re tired. You haven’t gotten a chance to process things, but Spike takes patience. He needs someone who is going to go at his pace.” Willow was soft in her words.  
  
“I have been nothing put patient with him.” Buffy immediately flew on the defensive. “I stayed up with him all through last night…”  
  
“You shoved pills down his throat.” Xander cut in.   
  
“To help him!” Buffy practically hollered.  
  
“Look no one here is judging you.” Willow began.  
  
“Really? Because it sure as hell feels that way to me!” Buffy turned and began to storm up the stairs.  
  
“Where are you going?” Willow called after her.  
  
“To see, Spike.” Buffy continued her way up the stairs.  
  
Willow chased after her, cutting in front of her. “No!”  
  
“What? Now you’re banning me from seeing him. I can make you move.” Buffy challenged.  
  
“We both know I can hold my own against you.” Willow stated intensely back, much to Buffy’s surprise.   
  
Xander immediately stepped between them. “Enough!”  
  
Now their surprise fell on Xander.  
  
“We’re all tired. We’re all reeling here. The last 24 hours haven’t exactly been a picnic for anyone. We’re on edge. We’re not exactly ourselves. I mean, who here has gotten a good night’s sleep in the last 48 hours, because I know I haven’t. But we’re still friends. We care about each other. We don’t fight each other.” Xander stared at them both, letting his words register before continuing. “Buffy, we know you care about Spike. Up until recently I would have figured you crazy for it, but Blondie with a soul has lost his repulsive nature.”  
  
“Wow that must have hurt you a little inside to say that.” Willow spoke good-naturedly.   
  
Xander shot her a look. “ _Anyway,_  you need to step back and really see the seriousness of what happened. There’s a reason why everyone is reacting the way they are that hears about this. Or sees it in my case.”   
  
"I just wanted to help him. You have no idea what it’s like having this level of responsibility placed on you. If I do one thing wrong I could break him.” Buffy looked at them both desperately.   
  
Both Xander and Willow’s features softened, the tension going out of the red-head. “You’re not going to break him. You just need to be patient with him. At all times. As hard as it may be. He needs that. He needs to feel that level of support. Buffy, that had to be scary for him. Think about it. He had no real way to defend himself. His hands don’t work. He’s in complete agony. He can barely move and then he has someone to shove one of his worst fears in his face. No real way to fight back, but with fangs.”  
  
Xander raised a finger “Still not loving that can I say.”   
  
“What else was he going to do, Xander? It’s not like he’s going around biting all of our hands.” Willow paused. “If he were I think I’d still be more concerned for him, because that’s just not normal behavior.”  
  
Buffy shook her head. “I’m such an idiot.” She sat down onto the steps, and balled her fists. “I probably just ruined all of the trust that he has in me. What was I thinking?”  
  
“You’re not.” Willow commented. “You were just in the same situation he was. Facing a hurtful situation you couldn’t control. And you tried to take back control over it by forcing in him some painkillers. Just like he took back control by refusing to be tranquilized, insisting on remaining awake and alert through all of this.”   
  
Buffy gave her a sheepish smile. “No wonder he took pills from you, and not me.”  
  
“Why don’t we all get some sleep?” Xander suggested.  
  
“There’s too much to do.” Buffy stated.  
  
“Lack of sleep really isn’t doing you or anyone any favors.” Xander insisted bluntly.  
  
Buffy couldn’t argue with him. She stood back up and nodded. “Okay. I will, but there’s something I need to do first.”  
  
***********************************************************************

  
The tension had drained from his body. Spike laid by Fred now, and she held him close and warmly. Truthfully, she knew that he really wanted such coddling done from Buffy, but it seemed the gentleness had gone out of the Slayer. She wasn’t going to let a repeat performance of this morning happen again. In all her time at the hotel after she had been brought back from Pylea no one once had gotten frustrated or angry with her. The circumstances were different, but she remembered having been a little bit on the crazy train herself. She had written on the walls, she would hardly come out of her room; it had taken Angel to help her set foot back in this world. He had done it with such patience after going through his own terrible loss. Now, she had lost him and she was caring for Spike. Life had a funny way of mimicking itself.  
  
Right now, the only thing that mattered was that he felt safe. At the moment he, somehow seemed to be more able to relax, and she wanted to keep it that way.  She moved her hand up to his head, and drew her fingers through his hair. His eyes followed her, as a look of curiosity fell over his face.

  
Fred laughed. “What color is your hair trying to be, really? I think you need a dye job, Buddy.”  
  
A look of horror fell over his face as he tried to look up towards his head to see the damage that had been done to his hair in the time that he'd been gone. He pouted when he got no result and then gestured in frustration towards his hands.  
  
Fred gave him a look of sympathy. She had wanted to hit on a subject that had nothing to do with his pain. Looked like she wasn’t entirely successful. But well, there was no turning back now. “You’ll have your ability to take action and speak back soon enough. Don’t worry.” She pulled out one of his curls, to show him what it looked like. “You should spike your hair. It’d match your name.”  
  
 _Used to, Pet._  Spike smirked at her. She was an interesting one.  
  
Not finding anything more random to talk about, Fred decided to get back on the topic they had originally come for. She began to speak to him casually. “I can relate to your fear of sedatives. I used to be afraid to go to sleep too. For a while. After coming back from Pylea. I think I mentioned that. Anyway, I’d stay up late at night and read or explore the hotel, because I was afraid it’d all turn out to be a dream. Like I was still really in stuck in that hell-dimension. Or I’d just have these really horrible nightmares of portals sucking me back in. And, of course, I never read anything I was reading out loud. Not for a long time. No, Sir. Learned my lesson there.”   
  
He looked up at her in confused curiosity, as if she really hadn't mentioned it. She shook her head, and decided to explain a little further. “That’s what happened. I was at the library and picked up the wrong book. Well, wrong now. Considering what happened and everything. I got sucked in. Wound up in Pylea. And there humans are slaves. They call them cows. Always made me wonder what they called the cows there, but I never saw any, so maybe there weren’t any. I was there for five years.” 

 

_Wager you know a thing or three ‘bout torment. Somethin’ in common…balls…wish I could talk._  
  
She shrugged, and continued, pensively. “I love books, but for a while there, I didn’t want to go anywhere near them. Is that what’s going on with you too? From what I’ve heard about you, and your great fighting skills, I’ve been wondering how anyone could take you down. Was that what happened? You got drugged?”  
  
Spike nodded, and smiled, with grateful relief written all over his face.  
  
They shared a moment, and then Fred took her hand away from his now rather tousled hair and sighed. “I need water if I’m going to get your hair to stand up.”  
  
Spike quickly whipped his head away, getting another laugh from Fred. “My my, aren’t we a fussy vampire.”  
  
Before Spike could make an expression to do his unvoiced words justice, a soft knock came from the door. Immediately, both their heads turned towards the sound. They didn’t need to see who was on the other side to know who that knock belonged to. Fred sensed that her Spike-watch was over, though she really didn’t want to go.  
  
Buffy watched as Fred exited, knowing full well that she really wouldn’t be far. She didn’t blame her. Jealousy, anger, resentment, none of that would be fair, and right now she needed to worry less about that stranger girl being better than her at this, and more about the man that she had hurt. One of the people she would want to hurt the least. Through everything she had been through this last year he had stood by her, right now he had needed her and she hadn’t done the same.  
  
“Spike.” She spoke gently as she crossed the room.  
  
He looked up at her, his bottom jaw clenched tightly.   
  
Was it anger or sadness? Buffy couldn’t tell. His jawline grew tense when he was mad or when he was holding back tears. His eyes didn’t seem wet through, but his features weren’t filled with fury. Discomfort? She imagined he was just as uncomfortable in this as she was. “I heard you’re feeling better.”  
  
 _No buggerin’ thanks to you._  Spike’s eyes landed on her hand.  _Then again, maybe we’re even, Kitten._    
  
He wanted to let out a sigh that wasn’t possible. He was stuck on what she had done to him, hurt by it, betrayed almost. But then, it rang in his ears, the knowledge that he had hurt her. He kept right on with the hurting of the people that he cared about and it wasn’t as though he brought himself to care about many people. Maybe that was for the best.   
  
Buffy noted Spike’s eyes as they landed on her bandaged hand. “Oh. It’s fine. It’s…not important.” She bit her bottom lip trying to find the right words. Were there right words for this? If there were why couldn’t she find them? She realized in that moment why she couldn’t read his expression. He was everything at once. He seemed hurt, sad, guilty, and angry all at once. She just wanted to take him in her arms again as she had done the night before. She wanted to comfort him and start the day over so that comfort would never have ended. There was no going back. That was a harsh lesson life continually taught her over the years. No matter how old she got it was a truth that never got any easier or one that never changed.  
  
“I am so  _so_  sorry, Spike.” Buffy shook her head. “I swear that I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to violate your trust. I thought I was helping. No. That’s not right.” She looked up at the ceiling in shame. “I was helping myself.” Her eyes locked with his. “I couldn’t handle your pain. So much has happened. So much has been happening and I just couldn’t handle it. I took that out on you. The last person in this building that needs that right now. I am so sorry. I understand if you want me to go.”   
  
Spike tilted his head to the side. What she had done had shaken him to the core. What he had done to protect himself weighed on his shoulders just as much. Right now, all he could see was that she was upset, hurting, and he couldn’t have that. Not because of him. Not ever because of him. The last thing he wanted was for her to go, especially upset. To hell with this morning. To hell with what happened. She was offering her comfort again. She was offering herself again and he needed that more than anything. He needed her. He always would.   
  
He looked at her and then at the bed. Then at her. Then at the bed.   
  
Buffy’s heart fluttered. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Could he really be that forgiving after everything that he had just gone through? Yes, she knew this was Spike, but even so it seemed too good to be true. “You…you want me to…”  
  
Spike gave her a pointed look. He gestured with his head enthusiastically. _Daft bint._  
  
A smile fell over her face.  
  
 _Daft bint or not, just want to see you smile, Love._  
  
Buffy went closer to the bed before remembering one small detail. She held up a finger. “Just one second, Spike.”  
  
She moved towards the door and opened it, spotting Fred who was sitting against the door directly across from there.  
  
“Everything is okay now.” Buffy stated knowingly.  
  
Fred looked up at her flustered. “Oh. Well okay then.” She stood up chipperly. “I’ll go read in my room. It’s a lot more comfortable I’ll tell you that.”  
  
Buffy shook her head in amusement as she watched the southern girl head off. She shut the door and then immediately crawled on the bed, allowing Spike to fall into her arms where he belonged. It felt good to be forgiven, but more importantly it felt good to be able to support him once again.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Buffy didn’t know how long Spike should really be left alone for, but she needed to take the opportunity to figure out where she was living and who exactly she was living with. Wesley had decided to take everyone on a tour of the hotel and give them a general feel of the operation they had going on.  
  
“We used to have a website up and running, but it was found that more cases were less ethical to take that were coming our way.” Wesley explained. “We truly are less about money making and more about finding those in need of help.”  
  
“So, you actually charge people for saving their lives?” Xander asked in disbelief.   
  
“Well. Yes. We do have to live somehow. The hotel itself has expenses. It’s a small fee, but it keeps us able to continue doing what we do.” Wesley responded.  
  
“Buffy does what she does and she doesn’t get a paycheck for it.” Dawn gazed at Wesley quizzically.  
  
“I understand how there could be a question of morals here, but…”Wesley was cut off.  
  
“Look, what English here is trying to say is we’re no different than hospitals charging their patients. They get paid for saving people’s lives. So do we. You want to help. That’s great. We’re grateful to have it, but these are our operations. They may not mesh with yours, but they’ve done us just fine in the past. Done those people we’ve saved just fine too.” Gunn looked to his new co-workers defensively.  
  
“Okay.” Buffy responded.  
  
The Scoobies looked at her in confusion.  
  
“Okay. For now.” Buffy clarified. “We can work these details out later. We’re two operations with different styles coming together. That doesn’t have to be dealt with this second. Right now, we’re just seeing what you’ve got.”  
  
“Yes, well…”Wesley cleared his throat. “That about covers it. Are there any questions? Aside from the payment factor that is?”   
  
Giles stepped forward. “I have something to say.” He turned and faced the group before him. “With recent events of the council meeting their demise, as you can imagine things are in great disarray. Its become clear that it would be useful if I went over there and helped restore order and organization back in England.”  
  
Buffy’s heart stopped for a moment, his words knocking the wind out of her. “You’re leaving again?”  
  
Giles nodded, almost unable to look his Slayer in the eye. “There isn’t much left here for me to do. My use is best placed elsewhere.”  
  
“With the council.” Dawn spoke trying to keep her anger at bay. “What use have they ever had anyway?”   
  
“They do serve a very important purpose. I recognize that in the past they’ve been trapped in their own traditions; however, such a set-up would no longer serve a purpose in the fight against evil. There are no more Potentials. Only Slayers. Slayers that need a great deal of training and education on the matter. A whole new system needs to be put into place. Possibly a school for the girls. I feel its best I go, and the new Slayers come along.” Giles explained with a hope for understanding and reason winning out.  
  
“Fighting evil will never be the same.” Fred observed.  
  
“Precisely.” Giles commented.  
  
“Well, you should go do that.” Buffy commented. What else was she going to say? She and Giles hadn’t exactly been getting along famously these days. It wasn’t ever written in stone that he would stay for good as it was. Granted, part of her thought that he might given how much they had changed the world, but he had other things to do once more. He had to do what he felt was right. Wasn’t that what he always did? Wasn’t that exactly what had started their fighting in the first place? It only escalated. First Spike, then he had been part of the mutiny throwing her out of the house, and then once again he had given her more of a hard time for wanting to help Spike when he had been retrieved. It was probably better that he was gone. She couldn’t be mad. He had things to do and she had things that she needed to do. That was there. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. “I need to go be check on Spike.”  
  
She turned and made her way upstairs. The time for fighting was done. The time for healing needed to begin, even if that meant that she had do that without guidance she kept fooling herself into thinking that she always had.  
  
When she peeked in on him though, she saw that he had finally fallen into a sort of sleep. She smiled. With his still remaining level of pain, there was no telling how long it would last, but at least for now, she'd do better not to bother him. Better for herself too. That narrow bed had truthfully been a nightmare to try to get some sleep on herself too, especially with her own injury. She decided to go find a bed of her own, and get a good night’s sleep at last, like Xander and Willow had urged her to do.  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy was home. In her old room, her own bed, with Mr. Gordo snuggly in her arms. She heard the tree creaking outside, and then there was a knock on the window.  
  
Three hard raps, in quick succession. She went to open it, and fell right into the arms of Angel. Held him, hugged, and snuggled close into the nook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him. Then she took a step back, and stared at him in wonder. "But, you dusted!" she whispered. “You're gone." "Along with this room and all the rest of the town" he smiled back at her. "But it's all still here, isn't it?"   
  
He took her hands, and sat down on the bed with her. "I could die a thousand deaths, and still always come back to you" He reached out a hand, and stroke her hair back. "I love you". "I missed you so much!" Buffy muttered, and reached out to pet his hair too.   


And found herself grasping empty air. In a strange bed, in a room she did not know. It went far too fast to get out of dream world and back to reality. He was gone, forever.   
  
She had lead a bunch of green girls into war, many of them were dead, and more might follow. They'd probably be gone all if it wasn't for him, and his sacrifice. That still didn’t make it easy to accept though. The mental movie in her mind started playing again, that had been on repeat ever since she climbed back into that school bus. The scene, down there, his goodbye, a million ways she could have acted differently, to save him. There probably was none. She buried herself in her borrowed pillow, and cried. Sobbed and wept, till she had completely lost her breath, and had to come up for air.   
  
But, she told herself, she wasn't quite alone. Not yet. She still had her friends. Although she didn't want to burden them any more than necessary. And they were now, in the dead of night, probably all asleep anyway. There was one who most likely wasn't though. She still had one vampire left to her. She should be with him right now, but she couldn’t be. Not when she was this way. Not when she was so openly hurt, crying. He’d hate to see her cry. He’d want to comfort her when he was the one who needed comforting. She couldn’t ask him to be her wall of strength in his condition and over a particular vampire that he had a long and twisted history with. Not to mention, a vampire that she had been intimate with. No, it wasn’t fair. She couldn’t be with him now. Not tonight. He’d lay alone through his pain and she’d lay alone in hers. She’d help him by not helping him. There was kindness in that, at least for tonight.  
  
So, instead, she got up, and walked down the hall, and around till she found the room she was looking for, the one Wesley had told her had used to be Angel's, that they had let stand empty and unchanged through the massive lot of visitors they'd had lately, in his memory. She crawled into the bed, and buried her nose in his pillow, sniffing in the scent of him. Snuggled close into his blankets and laid there, till her mind cleared up a bit. She thought through her dream, and it now struck her as a little silly. He wouldn't "always come back to her". Even if he had survived the Hellmouth, this was his place. In this house, in this town, with these people. Not with her.   
  
Hmm, irony of life. Now, she finally lived in his world. Stayed with his people, were about to work his missions, even laid in his bed. And still, she couldn't be with him. She felt her sadness give way to anger. Remembered the last time he had almost died, and she had almost died to save him, only to watch him turn his back on her and walk away. "You always leave me, don't you?" she hissed at the room. Wait until I'm the most vulnerable, and then walk away. Well, I've had it! If you do come back again, I'm going to walk away from you!!"  
  
With that, she got up, left the room, and went to collect her stake and cross, to go out in the night and blow off some steam.


	11. Exodus

A week later, Buffy sat there, on the edge of his bed, and stared down at Spike, with a half filled bottle of blood in her hand. She had tried to feed him, but as per usual these days, he had only gotten down a little bit, before he turned the rest of it away and dropped his head back down on the pillow. He clearly needed to eat more than he was getting down these days. He was still so thin and drained that it couldn't be healthy. She'd be surprised if it turned out that he had gained much weight at all in the about two weeks time that had now passed since he was rescued. His cheekbones were so sharp and prominent that she could've cut herself on them, and she could count the ribs in his chest, when the blankets wasn't covering them. But at least they were whole ribs now. Over the last week, she had clearly seen how his body was putting itself back together. The scars that had still been visible all over his face when she had found him down in the Initiative caves had vanished real quickly. By now, the rough, glaring surgery scar that had been there too was only a barely noticeable thin red line down his chest. His hands and legs looked much better too. Limp and skinny, but no longer stiff and twisted in odd angles. She took his hand, and stroke it gently, drew her fingers along all the now straight lines down his wrist, up the palm to the tip of his fingers. Gripped each finger and relished in the feel of them. Soft, agile, whole again! Suddenly she felt his hand move in hers, as he turned it around, and gripped hers instead. Held it firmly, and rubbed her palm with his thumb.   
  
She looked up at him in awe. "Your hand works!" she chimed out, enthusiastically. "That's so nice!" He smiled back at her, with warm pride and satisfaction. But, as always with him, it seemed, his eyes contained so many more feelings too. She wanted to see only his pride and joy in getting his fit, healthy body back. But there was also still something scared about him. Insecure, nervous. And behind that, the deep, sore pain, that seemed to burden him down still, all the time. She knew some of it was still physical. His body might be well on the way to healing, but parts of his insides were clearly still a work in progress. He still couldn't breathe. There was more to it though. She had noticed that especially when his mind seemed to go wandering, into visions that only he could see, and his eyes went blank and distant. Or some mornings when she stayed with him while he was sleeping, and he'd twitch and turn in his sleep, and wake up sweating and shaking, with a stricken look on his face. She really wished he could talk to her. Tell her about all of this. Not that they had ever been much good with the talking before either, especially about him, but it would have been nice to at least have the opportunity to change that.   
  
She looked down on his hand, firmly cuddling her own, and got an idea. She got up, went to Wesley's office behind the front desk of the hotel and collected pen, paper and a thick book that could be used as a writing board. She really hoped she had not chanced upon grabbing one of Wes' favorites.  
  
When she got back to him, the look of hurt in Spike's face had gone all the more prominent. Ouch, bad Buffy. Thinking about their regrettable lack of communication, and then run off, without any explanation of why. What must he have thought? Well, good thing, she was about to find out! "I got something for you." She said, placed the book on his bed, with the paper clipped on to it with a paper clip, and handed him the pen. "Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"   
  
Spike didnt react right away. His head was spinning. Was he finally gonna have a chance to ask her all those things he had been wondering for so long? Did he dare to? No. Not the big things at least, not right away. But there were plenty of not as touchy things to ask too. He could use the opportunity to get clarity in one of the apparently little things he had been bothered the most with, ever since the day he was captured: Time. While laying here in this bed, he still hadn't lost the feeling of it as a shapeless, changeless enemy, out of his control. He needed to lock it down. Get system and structure to it, like it so naturally had out in ordinary life. He put the pen to the paper, and asked. "What day is it?"   
  
Wow. Buffy had to restrain herself not to laugh. With everything that had happened lately, with all the stuff they could have had to talk about, that was the first thing he wanted to know? Well, at least it wasn't any of the tough topics she had deep inside not wanted to talk about. "June 3rd. It's really summer now"  
  
Oh! June? The last time he had had the chance to look at a calendar it had been mid-April. He had to know more about this. "How long was I gone?" That question seemed to stress Buffy up a little bit more. She looked almost ashamed. Could it be because she hadn't bothered to search for him much, during all this time? "I don't know." she confessed. "The First took on your appearance, and lived in our house. I couldn't tell that It wasn't you until one day when it became really obvious. I'm so sorry!"

 

Oh, wow, what news! She hadn't been looking simply because she didn’t know he was missing, she wished she had come for him earlier, and that was what she felt guilty about? Not having spent all that time with Angel and forgotten about him? He didn't have time to process it, though, till Buffy continued talking. "And when I did figure it out, I still couldn't find you. I didn't know where to go, and no one would help. I couldn't come before!" Buffy's voice grew steadily shriller, and she was weeping now. It scared him. Buffy didn't get this worked up easily. Could it really only be her worry for him? Or was she holding something back? Something bigger. Besides, her story didn't add up. No one would help? She had most evidently had eager help from the now dusted Big Poof. He pointed that out on his writing sheet, in short, brief words. "Angel helped".

 

"Yes" she smiled. "He was great about it. Cared, gave me the strength to move on and keep going, when I was on the verge of giving up. It's thanks to him and his great ability as a tracking dog that we could come at all... Or, I don't know..." Her voice trailed off, and her face grew distant. Well, just as good. He hadn't felt like she was really talking to him for a little while now. Did she really think he had a need to know how kind and cuddly that jerk of a grand-sire of his had been to her while he was locked up and suffering? His impression that she had shut him out grew all the clearer when she got up in the middle of a sob, looked at him like he was something near the enemy, and ran out the door, not even bothering to close it behind her.   
  
********************************  
  
Buffy needed to get out. She needed space. She needed fresh air. But most of all, she needed somewhere to cry. So much for a sweet, supportive conversation! A simple question about the calendar. That's all it took to get her off balance these days. To get her reminded of everything she had lost. That Angel was dust. And that she maybe had come too late to rescue Spike from the plan the First had for him. For a moment there, she had let her thoughts wander, and seen herself in the future, having to kill him, just like she had once had to with Angel, because whatever the First had done to him had kicked into action, and he had become a threat to her next save-the-world mission, and her whole friend gang. By the time her mind had flashed back to the numerous times in the past when Spike had tried to kill her or her friends, or efficiently splintered the scoobies apart and gotten them at each other's throat, she simply couldn't bear sitting there anymore.   
  
As Buffy worked her way down the hallway, the uninvited thoughts continued to assault her mind up the to the point that she didn’t realize Giles’ presence until she practically plowed into him. She kept doing that, plowing into people, first Xander and now Giles. There was too much on her mind too frequently, but what could she do about it? Realistically, what could she really do? It kept coming at her, again and again, she kept being bashed over the head with more stress, depressing news, and life and death situations. She needed to crumble. Why couldn’t she just have five minutes to crumble? She didn’t want Giles to see her that way. She never wanted anyone to see her that way, but with how strained everything had been between the two of them, the thought of him watching her fall apart right now, she didn’t know if she could bear it. At this point, she didn’t know how he would even react to it. He was the one who was always telling her how strong she needed to be, that she was the Slayer, that the tough decisions fell on her. It was about logic, not her feelings. She had feelings! She was a rollercoaster of feelings and right now she didn’t want to be the Slayer. She wanted to be Buffy!  
  
Giles was taken aback by the emotions that he was seeing from her. She was so distraught she hadn’t even noticed that she had fallen into his arms. She was in such a daze it was as though she didn’t know where she was at all. He reached out his hands towards her and pulled her close, and just held her simply as she cried. He didn’t say anything to her, but kept her in a tight embrace. Shame washed over him as he saw her face turn upwards towards him, searching his own, with anxious uncertainty, while she seemed to try to hold back her tears. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had hugged her. It had been so long. He had been so concerned with her being prepared for the war, everything had fallen on her shoulders as it usually did with the Slayer, that was her duty after all, but maybe she could have used more of this. There had just been so much to worry about, The First, Spike, getting the girls prepared, maybe he had focused too much on those problems and not enough on her. Had he judged her more than guided her? Mistakes. There had been so many mistakes that he couldn’t undo. Even though the world was safe now, his Slayer’s heart was not. She had experienced so much during the last year and lost so much as an outcome. Now was the time to heal and he now recognized that that was why he hadn’t yet left. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and held her tighter, as her tears really started flooding.  
  
They had arrived more than a week ago he realized and there had been no reason for him to stay this long, but he had watched her. He had quietly observed her from afar and she was not happy. He didn’t remember a time when she smiled once. Even Angel’s friends, Xander, everyone, though sad, still managed to find something humorous along the way. Buffy, she seemed to still be weighed down by duties, emotions, and the lack of ability to really get a break from them. There was a lack of opportunity for her to be able to. Now wasn’t the time to leave her. He finally understood this. It was something that he wished he had understood before the first time he had left. She had needed him. She had been in too much of a bad state for her to take the cruel responsibilities of the world on. Yes, she had needed to learn to grow into adulthood, but then had not been the time. She was too fragile. She was too fragile now. No, going back to England could wait. It could wait for a little bit, till she was ready for him to not be there.   
  
When the storm finally past and Buffy looked up at Giles she was awestricken. It was safe to say that she hadn’t expected to be supported for a change, to have someone to lean on, to not be thrown aside when showing a weak moment. He hated to think that she was surprised that he would support her, but for the past two years he hadn’t given her any reason to really think otherwise. So, he said the only thing that needed to be said right in that moment.  
  
“I’m here for you. As long as you need me to be.”   
  
In response, Buffy hugged him tightly, the tears beginning again.  
  
Giles simply returned the embrace.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy stood outside the door leading to Spike’s room. Giles had gone back downstairs after her temporary insanity, but she found that she was glad that it had happened. She never thought she would ever feel glad to have succumbed to her emotions like that, and in front of someone no less, but she was. He had helped. That was the really funny thing about this. They hadn’t said much to each other, but they didn’t need to. Not then. Maybe later. For now, it was enough to know that she had his support. It meant the world to her to know that he was staying, because she needed him. History doesn’t always have to repeat itself.  
  
 _Speaking of history repeating itself…_  
  
She felt terrible for running out on Spike like that. She needed to make things right with him. Again. He could be thinking so many things right now and she was sure that none of them was right. He was perceptive, but given that the topic that she had run out on concerned Angel, she was sure that Angel was the only thing that he was willing to perceive. Yes, she was mourning. He knew that now. Deep down he probably always knew that, but it was more complicated than that. It was losing Angel. It was almost losing Spike. It was Angel maybe, or maybe not, being the very reason that she didn’t lose Spike. These two vampires were a mess that she wondered if she was always going to be caught between, even if one of them was now dust. Was that why it was so hard for her to turn the door knob and make her way inside? She didn’t want to see eyes filled with hurt and accusation. How could she ask him to be reasonable and, well, not a dope when he was hurting? Pain was the time you were most likely to be dopey after all. He was more than just not feeling good right now. He was recovering from a big thing. She just needed to be patient with him. He had earned patience.  
  
Luckily, after her sob with Giles and chance to clear her head, she had found the perfect way to settle a few things with him. To give a better answer to the question he had asked that had derailed their conversation, and fill him in on everything else he probably wanted to know. In her hand, she carried a pen, and a calendar.  
  
With that in mind, Buffy made her way inside. “Spike, I want to apologize for how things turned out earlier. And I've got something here that might help to really sort things out.”  
  
  
He looked at her with a blank but guarded expression, not letting anything out about what he thought of the idea. Buffy was a bit startled how his emotions didn't change with her new suggestion, like he was expecting this new initiative from her to not come up with much and not last long. Was he starting to get used to this from her? She did not like the thought of that. She didn’t want that to be the impression that he had of her. Back and forth Buffy. Could she blame him? Sure, it made sense in this circumstance, but what about all the other circumstances? She didn’t want to jerk him around and she didn’t want him to be used to being jerked around by her. She was thinking too much.   
  
She decided to just press on. She laid out the calendar in front of him and gave him the pen. Then she explained. "I thought we should try to figure out together the question you last asked." She looked at him and put up the warmest smile she could muster. "Could you mark off for me about the time you were abducted?"   
  
He took the calendar and flipped open the April page to it, grabbed the pen and circled in, to the best of his abilities, approximately the day of his abduction. Then he handed her the pen, and looked up at her curiously. She checked out the calendar and nodded. "Ah. About a month then." She flipped the calendar over to May and circled another day. "This is the day we finally found you". Wow, a month. He couldn't decide if it was shorter or longer than he had expected. That meant that the stay in bed afterwards had been around two weeks. Half as long. It sure didn't feel like it. These weeks had flown away compared to the apparently never-ending torment down in the Initiative labs. At least now he was getting better each day, and spending the time with Buffy and her gang, rather than getting worse and worse, just waiting for impending dust. Amazing what difference that could make. A month away. It was still longer than he had been locked up any time before. And he had quite a bit of incidents to compare it to.   
  
So, he had been missing for a whole month? Once again, she blamed herself for not being able to see it before. But now that she knew, it kinda made sense. The last time she could remember him touching something was when he had kicked Wood's ass. That was only a little before the date he had marked off in the calendar. Fit her well, sort of. It was from that point forth she had laid plans for which new events she needed to fill him in on.  
  
She flipped the calendar back to April, and pointed to a new date, towards the end of the month. "On this day, we found out that the First had a right hand man, Caleb, who had just made his entrance to town, and sent a message to me that he had something of mine" She deliberately avoided telling how he had sent his message. She knew Spike would've been up to it, nothing seemed too gory for him, but she didn't care to remember it herself. She just wrote the incident down in the calendar between them. "Caleb comes to town".  
  
Then she flipped the page to May and continued telling. About their attack at the Vineyard and how it had made it clear that the First was not Spike. About how she had wanted to go rescue him, but no one else was up to it. About how she had been kicked out of her home. At that point, Spike interrupted. He grabbed his writing pad from the nightstand and wrote. "Bloody gits. I would’ve kicked their ass and come looking for you, if I were there." Buffy smiled. "I know you would. But it was a difficult situation. They were all exhausted, and very scared of going up against Caleb and the First again so soon, after the complete failure that was the last time, where we lost so badly. Don't take it personal."   
  
She continued, described and plotted into the calendar her fight with Caleb, and Angel's arrival. "Then you know the rest" she finished. "As soon as Caleb was dead, we went and found you. Angel set his nose to work all over Sunnydale, till we were able to pin down where you were." She left the calendar open on his lap, and sat back on the bedside chair.   
  
So, Angel hadn't come until the day when they had rescued him? They hadn't spent all that time together? Well, never mind. He felt sure she had still deep inside wanted it to have been that way. She was probably out of her mind with joy when the Big Poof finally made his way there. And he had seen how much she was mourning him now. After his big heroic exit, sacrificing himself to save the world. Spike had to admit that part of him was almost jealous. Maybe if it had been him, dusting in that cave, as the savior of the world, Buffy might finally admire him as a hero too? Maybe.   
  
***************************************************  
  
“I’m simply suggesting that it might be helpful if you accompanied all the older Slayers back to England.” Wesley heatedly stated.  
  
“Kennedy has made it perfectly clear that she does not wish to come back with us. I don’t feel it’s imperative that we force all of the girls back there. If I allow one to remain behind I have to allow the others to go off where they wish.” Giles explained. “There's no need for all of them and myself to head for England at this point.” He was not interested in going ten rounds with Wesley, but it seemed that he wasn’t going to get a choice in that matter. The prat. Wasn’t he fired by the council? Okay, so, he himself had been fired by the council too, but for much different reasons. He also had been reinstated, so that made him…better! Not that the council was around anymore, but it was the principle of the matter!  
  
“There are a lot more Slayers at your disposal now-”  
  
“All here, with us.” Giles interjected.  
  
“And more on the way, awaiting a British headquarter.” Wesley spoke through clenched teeth. “So then you cannot allow them to run in disorder.”   
  
Andrew, who had been standing quietly by, watched the two of them go at it like a tennis match. It was so lively. He had always imagined the council being something dark, domineering, serious. Somewhat like the council of the Vulcans that Spock had to face. The council of watchers was gone, but a council made up of Giles and Wesley, well that would be exciting. Fascinating really! He found himself being pulled in more and more, the excitement growing from within him, ready to burst.  
  
“The other girls that we will be rounding up will be new. They are the ones who need your services more than ever.”   
  
Wesley gave Giles a piercing look. Giles clenched his jaw to match Wesley’s. “I have my Slayer already. What they need are their own watchers…which they will get, once we can get ourselves organized.”  
  
Wesley interrupted. “You are the one of us who has the best overview and contact with what's left of the Watcher's Council. If anyone can pull off the organizing our old organization desperately needs right now, it's you. And as to the Watching of the original Slayer, I do believe we've both had that title at some point. And that it is better use of resources in our current situation that I assume the responsibility of watching her through her new responsibilities as part of our team here in L.A. I've been around here longer, and dare say I know the ropes of the place a bit better than you do. No offense.”  
  
Giles hated to admit it, but Wesley had a point. The remnants of the Council needed to be reunited, and after everything, they probably felt less skeptical of him than they would of Wesley. "None taken. And I bet the girls would agree with you" he added grumblingly. “Not all the girls are taking off on their own. Some have expressed interest in coming along.”  
  
Wesley nodded “I don’t feel it’s wise for girls who have been slayers for five minutes, had minimal training, and fought in a war for another five minutes to be on their own amidst all this evil.”   
  
“Yes, that doesn’t sound very wise at all.” Andrew rubbed his chin in a contemplative manner.  
  
“Thank you.” Wesley smirked, pleased to finally be appreciated in this area. He did have expertise after all.  
  
Giles snorted.  
  
“What?” Wesley looked perplexed.  
  
“I’m just glad he’s not my support.” Giles took a sip of tea from the mug he had been holding. “As I said, I can’t make all the others go if I’m not making Kennedy. I realize it’s different. Kennedy will be here with a team. She will be learning from the oldest living Slayer to date, but there’s such a thing known as free will, which was a little lacking with the other council if you might remember.”  
  
Wesley was all too pleased to see that some progress had made with Giles. It had been a few years since they had been face to face, speaking at such great lengths and Sunnydale wasn’t his proudest moment, even he could admit, but Giles couldn’t see him beyond their last less than desirable encounter. He recognized his faults there; he had much more field experience working alongside Angel, but it seemed Giles was too busy living in the past than recognizing the future. It thus pleased him immensely that Giles now at least was willing to listen to him, now that he had come and told about this inappropriate plan to cancel the trip and stay here with the Slayer instead. Who knows, perhaps Willow had put in a good word or two about him after lending her help a few weeks ago, maybe it had made Giles more willing to listen to his point, but obviously something had happened.   
  
“Wouldn’t it be nice,” Andrew began, interrupting Wesley’s train of thought. “if you could set up a school of sorts where the older slayers taught the younger ones. With pay. A sort of motivation for them to come along.”  
  
Giles and Wesley both stared at Andrew in stunned silence.   
  
Andrew shifted uncomfortably under their gaze.  
  
Giles then turned towards Wesley. “That’s brilliant.”  
  
“A school! Of course!” Wesley grinned happily.  
  
“The watchers I’m in contact with can train these girls. Give us time to put this school together, get everything organized, get the newly turned potentials rounded up and by the time we’re ready, the older trained slayers will be experts, or at least, more than capable of taking on the role as teacher.”  
  
“Where will you get the funds for this?” Wesley inquired though his excitement about the idea was clearly written on his face.  
  
“Oh, you know the council has more than enough stored away. They’re the biggest cheapskates. They could never spare a penny for even a slayer who’s risking her life.”  
  
Andrew stepped back and smiled at Wesley and Giles’ newfound back and forth. Peace and tranquility had been restored once again.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Xander sat on the couch in the main lobby lost in thought. He didn’t have too many people to talk to right and he wasn’t all that motivated to do so. Giles, Wesley, and surprisingly, Andrew were excitedly rambling among themselves over something. Willow and Kennedy were talking quietly off to themselves and it seemed the rest of Angel’s old team were spread out, quiet themselves, hard news had hit them only about a week prior to this. He understood how they felt. He may not have been Angel’s biggest fan, but he got it. It took a lot more than a week to get over something like this.  
  
He felt a dip in the couch and he looked over. He smiled softly. “Hey look, it’s the Buffster.” Just the one that he wanted to see. He supposed that he could always chat it up with Dawn, but he didn’t see himself really digging deep with her into the painful hole that was left in his heart. She was smart, she’d get it more than most people her age given what she had grown up around, but still she was like a kid sister to him. He couldn’t put that on her.   
  
Buffy read the expression his face. She knew it too well. It was the one that she had been wearing all week. “Everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah. It comes in waves. And by waves I mean all the time.” Xander let out a sad laugh, which Buffy greeted with a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know what would have happened between Anya and me. I really don’t. It would have been nice to be able to find out, you know?”  
  
Buffy nodded her head. “I know.”  
  
“Just like Willow knows with Tara. Even Giles with Jenny. Think now that The First is gone this means that we can stop losing people?”   
  
“I think it will help. Not so much with The First being defeated, but all the Slayers we have running around, lots of reinforcements for Buffy and friends.” Buffy smiled warmly. “It’ll take a lot of the work off of our shoulders too. Plus, no hellmouth here. I hear that makes a difference.”  
  
Xander nodded. “Bright spots all around us then. So, how goes it with you? Anything less mopey?”  
  
Buffy shrugged. “I guess I came down here to vent too. How sad are we?”  
  
Xander looked at her with amusement. “Very. But, hey, misery loves some company. Let us bask in it. Tell me, Buffy, what are the stories happening up on the second floor?”  
  
“Well, Spike’s still painfully thin. He’s getting better though. Making with the whole bones and ability to write with his hands.”  
  
“That’s great!” Xander then laughed. “Did I just say that’s great about Spike getting mobile again? That means he’ll be making with the talking again. And someday soon he’ll be able to get out of bed again too.”  
  
“Xander…”Buffy gave him a warning glance.  
  
“I don’t mean it that way. Which is weird for me, but I don’t. He’s not so bad with a soul I guess…”  
  
“The lack of a demon being in control helps, huh?” Buffy smirked. “Did you two bond or something when you were living together? I bet you did. Late night chats.”  
  
“No! No…I mean. Okay, sometimes he’d put Melrose Place on, and I don’t know, I’d get sucked in, but that was it!”  
  
“Right. Well, anyway, moving right passed that, I just worry about him. Even with the getting better and everything. It’s going to be hard for that to matter much if he’s so underweight.” Buffy sighed.  
  
Xander nodded. "Have you tried talking to him about it?"  
  
“No. Not really.” Buffy admitted. “I just didn’t want to push him. I did too much with the pushing before.”  
  
“Just don’t start shoving blood down his throat and you should be good there.” Xander teased but was only met with another glare. “Too soon?”  
  
“Yeah. But. That was my fault. All my fault.” Buffy shook her head. “I have half a mind to give him more of my blood.”  
  
“Wait, more of your blood. When was there blood giving before?” Xander looked at her alarmed.  
  
“Back at my house. When he was first rescued. It was no big. It just helped heal him and he needed fast healing at that point.” Buffy shrugged.  
  
Xander sat back, the meaning behind this weighing heavy on him. “Wow.”  
  
“What wow?” Buffy raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Just wow. Just, I can’t believe you let another vampire bite you. You know, because the last time you did that it worked out so well. And I’m not talking Dracula here.” Xander shook his head in disbelief.   
  
Buffy sighed, anger starting to build in her. “He needed my help. Spike might not have pulled through otherwise.”  
  
“There was plenty of pig’s blood in the house.”   
  
“He needed something a bit stronger than that! God, Xander. You know what he’s been through. You saw the condition that he was in. How could he have survived on just animal blood?”   
  
“Just like Angel wouldn’t have survived, which, might I remind you, that you almost died in his place. What made you think that Spike would have had any more control than Angel did that day?” Xander spoke sternly.   
  
Buffy looked down, the fight going out of her as quickly as it had come in. It was still a blow to her, hearing Angel’s name, especially like that, to speak bad about him when he was gone.  _Salt meet wounds_. “I was right.” Buffy said quietly. “He never hurt me.”  
  
Xander saw the pain in her eyes. He didn’t need to see the pain to know it had been an insensitive thing to say. Angel was dead. Recently. Just like Anya was. He knew that he wouldn’t want anyone talking about her. He didn’t think that he could take it. Even if he had never liked Angel, now wasn’t the time for that. There didn’t need to be a time for it anymore. He was gone, and whether he liked him or not Buffy had loved him, and now she was grieving. That should be something that he could relate to. “It was your choice. You have the right to make a choice. It’s your life. Besides, I shouldn’t be casting stones. Engaged to a demon once here. I know what it’s like to love the supernatural. If Anya had needed something from me,  _anything_ from me, I would have given it to her in a second.”   
  
Xander looked away, the pain of saying her name written on his face. Buffy looked up and saw it. Despite his looking away, she could see it, because it was the same way she had been carrying herself since Angel had gone down. “Xander…”  
  
Xander turned back and looked at her, tears now present along with a rolling of his eyes at himself. “Maybe that’s not true, right? Maybe, I wouldn’t have done everything for her, because I didn’t do anything for her.”  
  
“That’s not true-”  
  
“Then how come I’m here and she’s not” Xander looked at her intensely. “How come she’s dead and I’m able to sit here and talk to you? If I were willing to do everything, how come I couldn’t muster up enough strength to get out of that damn bus and go help her!”  
  
Buffy put an arm around him. She knew too well what he was going through. What if she could have done something? What if, she didn’t know, she could have stayed there with Angel and helped him? At the last second, when all the damage had been done, ripped the necklace from him and they could have escaped together. What if she could have saved him? Her head knew how illogical that was, it was a non-possibility, but her heart betrayed her, reprimanding her that she hadn’t tried hard enough. If only she had tried more!  
  
“Andrew watched her die in battle.” Buffy reminded him gently. “She fought bravely, but she wasn’t able to make it. You getting out of that bus, dragging yourself into battle, it wouldn’t have changed that. You both would have been killed.”  
  
“But I just sat there.” Xander spoke through tears. “I sat there like she was nothing. Like she didn’t matter. I let her go into war without me by her side.”  
  
Buffy shook her head. “No, you couldn’t have done anything. You weren’t in the condition for fighting. She knew that. She would have ordered you right back onto that bus.”  
  
Xander sighed. “Do you wonder? Why them? Why it wasn’t it us? Does that thought cross your mind too?”  
  
Buffy nodded. “It does. A lot of thoughts do. Very similar to yours. I don’t know if there’s anything in life that hurts worse. I thought that every time I decided it was time to strike, and sent girls into action. Like "how many of them are going to die now for me?" I never did good enough to protect them. She gave him a sardonic smile "it was some crap of a year in general. But like you said, things have every hope of getting better now.”  
  
Xander sighed. “Sometimes I think that I can never be okay. That I can never feel better. With her gone, every step I take, every conversation I have, there, in the back of my head, there’s a reminder that she’s gone and the rest is meaningless.”  
  
Buffy nodded her head. Boy, did she get that. She had been there too often in the past. Angel, her mother, Angel again, it hurts all over and you can’t get past the fact that they’re simply just not here. She didn’t know how she was going to get through this, to move on, to not feel it. She had managed it somehow the last time Angel left her though. She had with her mother, somehow. She still missed her terribly, but she had gotten through it. She dearly longed for the day when this whole thing started to get possible to live with again this time too. “It’s going to feel that way for some time and that’s okay. But they wouldn’t want us to feel that way forever. She wouldn’t want you to be in pain. It’s okay to mourn, but Angel and Anya both, it’d hurt them to know we always hurt.”   
  
Xander nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. When did you get so wise?”  
  
Buffy smiled good-naturedly. “You pick up a thing or two when you die yourself.”  
  
Xander returned the smile. “Thanks, Buff. It means a lot. You being here for me. And, so you know, with Spike and your concerns with him, just gently bring up the blood thing now and again. Don’t force it on him and don’t do it every time you’re around him. Once he starts healing more, he’ll start to feel better. He’ll be okay. He’s heading in the right direction. If he wasn’t getting better at all then I’d be worried.”  
  
Buffy smiled softly. “Thanks, Xander. I appreciate your advice.”  
  
Xander nodded. He had always felt close to Buffy. His whole life may have fallen down around him, but he wasn’t alone. There was a chance of rebuilding after all.  
  
***************************************************  
  
  
A few days went by before Buffy found the right chance to bring up her food worries with Spike. He kept not eating much, and his condition didn't really seem to change any. But then one evening she came to check on him she might have gotten reason to reconsider that. There Spike was, on the bed, moving his legs around ever so slightly, testing them just a bit. It seemed he was testing them as much as he dared to in that moment. His brow furrowed as gazed down at his legs with curiosity. His hands were feeling their way around the wounded knee, as he kept bending it just a little bit more.  
  
Buffy went to his side right away. “Oh, Spike. That’s so good!”  
  
Spike looked up at her, his face holding the same curious gaze on it.  
  
“Do you want to try walking?” Buffy encouraged. “I could help you stand up. We can give walking a try.”  
  
Spike paused thoughtfully at her offer and then slowly agreed with a slight nod of his head. He was hesitant about this. His feet might be able to hold him up again, but that knee he was less trusting of. Still... he so badly wanted it to work. He felt so ready to get up again. It was nice to know that he was coming back together again. Soon, everything would be just fine, he’d be able to walk again. He’d be able to fight again. He’d be able to run after Buffy when she rushed out of the room in tears. He damned his condition for this one. He wasn’t one for giving her space until it was blatantly obvious that there was no other choice. Her running out like that, over Angel, it still bothered him. What would he have said to her if he had followed her? The guy was a git. Nothing but a git. He didn’t understand her pain at all, because Angel was a git. That was what it came down. He was sure of it. He just, he wished that it wasn’t so easy for her to walk out on him like that. She was back though. That’s where things were different. He could see that difference. She kept coming back to him. He didn’t always have to go to her. That was something. It was something big.  
  
“Don’t be too upset if you can’t walk right away.” Buffy spoke as she slowly helped him to sit up. “I’m sure with a little bit more blood you’ll be able to if you have a hard time. Still, it’ll be good to know how far along you are.” Buffy helped get his legs over the side of the bed and then very gently she put a supporting arm around him helping him to stand.  
  
Spike smiled softly. He was standing up. He hadn’t stood up in so long. A month, he had learned. A whole month without standing. And then another two weeks in this bed. Here he was. It wasn’t perfect, he needed Buffy’s help doing so…wait...that sounded pretty damn perfect to him. Her arm around him, that was better than walking on his own. He couldn’t have hidden the smile that was on his face for anything.   
  
“Try and take a step.” Buffy continued to encourage ever so gently. “It’s okay if you can’t, but it might be fun to try.”  
  
Spike took a gentle step forward, very slowly. There was some slight pain in his legs as he did so. They were most definitely stiff, and weak from their lack of usage, but they were well on their way down the road to recovery.   
  
Another step. And another step. One more step.  
  
He was walking.  
  
No.  _Falling._  He was falling now…  
  
He had been half right. His wounded knee was sufficiently healed, bone-wise, to walk on again, but still weak, and a bit stiffer than the unbroken one. So when he tried putting his full weight on that leg, he tripped over and ended in ... Buffy's arms. There were perks to this condition after all.   
  
“Okay. That’s enough walking for now.” She carefully helped him back and over to the bed, getting him situated comfortably once more. “That was really great, Spike. I’m so relieved to see that you’re doing better.”  
  
“Can I talk to you about something? Something I noticed?” Buffy asked remembering that he needed to know that he had choice in everything.  
  
Spike simply nodded.  
  
“It’s about your eating or your lack thereof. I know that your stomach probably doesn’t feel great after the malnourishment and well…things.” Buffy decided to back off the surgery talk. That was not a memory that she should be forcing him to have right now or ever for that matter. “But it’s really important that you start eating more than you’ve been. If that little bit of blood helped getting you walking, even if it was only a few steps, imagine how much more it could do for you. It’s just…it’s up to you…I just wanted to give you something to think about.”  
  
If Spike could have sighed he would have. Instead he wrote. “Been patient with you the whole time you’ve been in here, Buff. Not like me. So…Stop talking to me like I’m five.” Spike gave her a pointed look.  
  
Buffy smirked. “I’m being serious, Spike. I want you to get better.”  
  
Spike returned to his board before holding it up once more, with a sarcastic look to go with it. “Yeah, and I want to get sicker.” He rolled his eyes.  
  
Buffy put her hands on her hips, exasperated. “You’ve been given the ability to communicate for a few days now and the only thing you have to write is sarcasm and rude remarks?”   
  
Spike wrote back with sly grin on his face. “I have a month to make up for.”  
  
***************************************************  
  
“Everyone, I have an important announcement to make.”  
  
Andrew stood before the now combined group of Buffy and Angel’s team. Another week had come and gone and there was nothing left to do here. Agreements had been made with those who were leaving and those were staying, so it was time to move on to the next phase of their lives, the next phase of the world. During the plans the Watchers made for these new slayers, he had finally found his great calling in life, and he needed to share it with everyone.  
  
“As you know, Mr. Giles, Wesley, and I have been working tirelessly on perfecting the plans for the new school that will be set up for all the new slayers. And being around them, and everyone these past few months, I’ve come to realize something about myself, my future.” Andrew straightened up with pride. “I am going to train to be a watcher, so that one day I too will have a slayer of my own. One that I can bestow my knowledge and experience on. One that I can mold-”  
  
“Did you really gather us all around, so you could tell us this?” Xander interrupted.  
  
“You could have just had this conversation with Giles. He’s the one who can set you up.” Dawn pointed out.  
  
“I did…” Andrew admitted.   
  
The crowd broke up, going about their business, with sudden lack of interest. Andrew hung his head and sighed.  
  
Giles approached the group huddled towards the back of the main lobby, knowing that there were some special people that he needed to say goodbye too. “Mind if I interrupt for a moment?”  
  
Buffy, Xander, and Willow all looked up when they noticed Giles’ presence, sad eyes all around with the knowledge that in a few moments it’d be farewell for a couple of weeks at least.   
  
“It’s been a pleasure to be back here.” Giles began. “Given the circumstances.”  
  
“We survived. The core Scoobies. That’s got to count for something.” Willow stated, trying to be cheerful.  
  
“Yes, I imagine so…I will keep in touch. Let you know how things are doing out there and you will let me know how things are setting up here.” Giles stated knowing the answer. He turned his face specifically at Buffy, and muttered. "You know I'll be back as soon as possible. I'm just going to gather up the rest of the remaining council members, and see that the new slayers are taken care of, and the plans for the school gets started. I have filled Andrew in on all of the plans, so once I have gotten everyone together and at it, they can be left alone ... I hope."   
  
Buffy giggled a little. "Well, then at least he can be used for something."   
  
“Organization all around. It’s a new day for vampires. They’re going to have to up their game.” Xander stated, trying to be optimistic.  
  
“All those Slayers, plus the two power groups of California coming together, we’ll almost be able to live a normal life.” Xander paused. “Almost.”  
  
“Soon enough that very well may be true. It’ll take a bit of time getting the Slayers trained and stationed in their respective areas, but I’m confident that a system can be put in place.” Giles commented.  
  
“Normal…”Buffy’s voice trailed off for a moment. “I’ll have to google that one. I can hardly remember what it is.”  
  
Willow smiled. “I know what you mean. It was so long ago that the only thing I had to worry about was if I remembered to study for an upcoming test.  
  
“Yeah, like you could ever forget to do that. The world could be coming to an end and you’d still make time for it.” Xander smirked.  
  
Giles smiled. “Well, I best be going now. Buffy, before I do, can I have a moment alone with you?”  
  
Buffy nodded her head as Giles and she moved away from everyone else off to a more secluded area.   
  
“What’s up?” Buffy tried to sound peppy. She knew that even with Giles staying behind he was only going to be able to do that for so long. He really was needed elsewhere this time around; however, it meant everything to her that he had put off going just for her. That little extra time, to have help and support, it had made a world of a difference.   
  
“Are you really okay with my leaving, because if you’re not…”Giles began.  
  
Buffy gave him a soft smile. “I’m okay. I’m not perfect, but I’m okay. It’s going to take some time, but the shock of everything has worn off. That helps.”  
  
“If you do still need me here then I will stay behind.” Giles looked at her sincerely.  
  
What a difference two years make. Buffy nodded. “I know you would. You did, but there’s things for you to do. There’s even things for me to do. You heard Xander, a normal life is reachable, so the sooner you get this new system straightened out the sooner we can have that.”  
  
“I’m only a phone call away.” Giles assured her. “I know these past few months have been trying. No, it’s been longer. These past few years have been quite difficult, but you’re not alone. I regret taking myself out of the equation when you needed to know that most.”  
  
“You were trying to help.” Was it helpful? No. There was a lot of that, trying to do what was right, but doing the opposite. Everyone had done that kicking her out, she had done that with the horrible pill incident with Spike. No one’s perfect. No one could be everything. Maybe she needed to stop trying to be that herself.   
  
“I didn’t. I see that now. I wish I had seen it sooner. It might have prevented me from doing so a time or two more.” Giles sighed.  
  
Buffy didn’t need him to elaborate. She had been on the receiving end of his, somewhat, domineering decision making. The choice to take Spike out knowing her feelings on the matter, again, being part of the group that had tossed her aside. His flaws, her flaws, so many flaws present in her mind, but you couldn’t take them back. You couldn’t reach out and grab that moment. You could only right where the wrong had been made. “We’re past all of that now. It’s a new day. Not just literally, but everything is going to change.”  
  
“A fresh start for us.” Giles smiled softly.  
  
Buffy returned the smile sweetly. “I’d like that.”  
  
They shared in their smile for a moment longer before Giles’ own became filled with one of goodbye. “I’ll call you as soon as I land.”   
  
With one last hug, Buffy watched Giles walk away. Only this time it didn’t weight quite so heavily on her heart. He’d be back. No matter how rough their relationship had gotten, or could get, he would always be support to her. He would always be…Giles. She could count on him. That was all she needed to know.  
  
***************************************************  
  
He had made vast improvements. At least, that’s what she told him, but if he were being honest with himself he could see it as well. It was impossible to miss. He walked much better now, though he hadn’t ventured far from his room. He didn’t want to, not without the ability to speak. He wasn’t high on too many people seeing him any more vulnerable than they already had. His broken bones had mended, any cuts and bruising that had remained were gone now, and the painful lung regrowth had subsided. He was well on his way to finally being cured. There were times when he wondered if it would be possible, if he would be him again. Now, he’d be able to take care of himself again, do what he does best, fight evil and put this whole nasty business behind him. As soon as he staked his first vampire it’d be just like old times. It’d be as though he had never been away from it in the first place.  
  
The creaking of the stairs caught his attention, but he didn’t need to guess who it was. It wasn’t because Buffy was his most frequent visitor, though Willow, Fred, and even Dawn poked their head in every now and again. No, it was the simple fact that he could smell her. He’d never forget her scent…wait…smell her? He could smell her? His eyes widened with that realization! Scent! He had scent back! He had missed it so much! What a way to welcome it back, the scent of Buffy wafting into his room! He couldn’t have thought of a better first scent than that.  
  
He pulled in air with that scent so hungrily that his all-new lungs went cramping, and sent him into a coughing fit. But that was a blessing in itself. To actually be able to cough. The smell of Buffy was getting nearer, along with her footsteps. She was just around the corner now. He decided to play a little trick on her.   
  
Buffy had come up to Spike’s room rather upset with Giles’ exit. She was okay with him going, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to miss him, especially since they had reconciled. It was a step in the right direction between them. Giles hadn’t been Giles, not in the last two years, and the past two weeks it felt like the old him had finally returned. Helped her, held her, even stopped giving any hints that she should not spend time with Spike. It felt like whatever darkness that had been in him, whatever it was that was making him so narrow minded, and even hurtful, had finally melted away from him. The right direction, that’s where things needed to move, and since they were she couldn’t help but really feel his absence here. So, she had gone to Spike. She didn’t want to lay it on him, but maybe just lay with him? He could comfort her without really knowing that he was comforting her. That’d be nice…  
  
The sight that met her when she came in took Buffy aback. He wasn't there! The bed was empty, and she could not see him out in the room either. She slowly turned around, but before she had reached to turn much, she felt his cold hands around her waist, holding her firmly, as his head were moving down on hers. Just as she started to think he was going for her neck, he bent in towards her ear, and said, in a voice loud enough to make no need for such measures "Hello, Buffy."   
  
A tear slipped down from Buffy’s cheek. Spike could finally speak again.

 


	12. Going Through the Motions

When early afternoon hit, Spike eyes snapped open with the inspiring knowledge that things had changed. He could walk. He could talk. No longer was he held down by the restraint of bonds or injury. No longer was he a prisoner of his own recuperating but damaged body. He could be everything that he expected of himself, and all the things people first thought of when they thought of him. No more helplessness or humiliation. He was Spike once more. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time, had only been a shell of what he used to be.   
  
He knew that he wasn’t alone when waking up; he could sense Buffy right beside him. He was surprised that she was still there. He knew what hours he kept and he figured that she would be going about her day, whatever day it was that she had in a hotel. It dawned on him how out of the loop he really was. He had been so focused on what he had been through, and the constant pain, that he didn’t know much of what was going on around him. His existence had been in the hands of others. A vampire trusting a Slayer with his very existence, to guide him when he couldn’t carry on by himself, now there was something that his former self would’ve called someone crazy for believing in, and he knew it sure wasn’t part of the Slayer training. Yet, she had helped him and he had trusted her to do so. Was there any question that it would have been any other way? Now, he needed to get up. He needed to catch up on things. He needed to get back in the game. The time for being cared for was over. He was ready to stand on his own.   
  
Spike sat up and caught the smile that was on Buffy’s face. He tilted his head to the side.   
  
“You have bedhead.” Buffy smirked, clearly amused.   
  
Spike rolled his eyes. “Don’t want to think ‘bout my hair right now. Soddin’ mess that it is. Not just cause I just woke up either.”  
  
“You’ve had a few other things to deal with besides your hair. You get a free pass.” Buffy stood up. “You hungry? I can go get you something?”  
  
“Yeah, but figure I can go with you.” Spike started to pull himself out of bed.   
  
The minute he started doing that Buffy was at his side in an instant, gently putting her hand on his shoulders to ease him back down. “Not so fast.”  
  
Spike looked up at her incredulously. “You can’t be serious. I’ve been in bed for weeks now. Can walk. Talk. Can get up and move ‘bout the hotel. Speakin’ of the hotel, can you tell me what we’re doin’ here exactly?”  
  
Buffy sighed. She was glad that he could talk again. She was. Even if at this second she had to remind herself of that. “There’s no rush for you to be up and about, Spike. I think you’ve earned the right to relax, even if your body is doing better.”  
  
Spike shook his head. “Not the lyin’ ‘round kind. Figure it’d do me more harm than good that way.”  
  
Buffy put her hands on her hips. “Oh? How’s that?”  
  
“Cause I’ll be bored.” Spike responded simply.  
  
Spike was stubborn. There was no question about that. She could understand where he was coming from, because she was a stubborn and active person herself. There was no question that she felt that it was in his best interest to take some extra time and rest, but this was the Spike that she had been waiting for, the one who was eager to get into a fight and grab a drink afterwards. Maybe it was better that she didn’t question him on this. He knew what he was ready to take on and she was more than ready to have him back on board. She was still going to keep an eye on him. He had been through a lot, but if he was ready to start getting back into things then who was she to get in his way? She’d trust him and honestly things would be better for it. She honestly was a bit relieved to see he was being so stubborn on this matter. Spike was really back.  
  
Buffy grinned. “Alright. If you’re sure you’re ready then maybe you can start easing back in.”  
  
“I’m sure, Buff. Not sayin’ I want to run right outside this second and go kill somethin’. Still, need to start movin’ forward.”  
  
“Plus, if you tried to go and kill something right now you’d burn. Sun’s still up.” Buffy shrugged.  
  
Spike didn’t crack a smile, but simply kept his gaze fixed on her.   
  
Buffy shifted uncomfortably. She hated when he did this. For someone who didn’t really crave friendship or social interaction he did have a tendency to talk a lot. It was uneasy when he didn’t say anything at all and only stared. In fairness, it would probably make anyone uneasy if they were only being stared at. There was something disturbing about it whether you were normally talkative or not. But he still did have his own way with it. “Like I said, if you’re sure then go for it. I just don’t want you to take too much on at once. It’s been awhile now, so you need to readjust. Knowing you, once you start walking around this place you’re going to want to be doing other stuff.”  
  
“Like fight evil.” Spike smiled pleased with the idea.  
  
“Well, yeah.”   
  
“Know me well, Pet. Rusty though. Need a bit of practice before I start goin’ after the undead.” Spike admitted.  
  
“Well, I guess, when you really feel like you’re up to it we could spar.” Buffy offered.   
  
“Ready, Buff. All healed up. Nothin’ holdin’ me back now.” Spike reassured her before standing up once again.  
  
This time Buffy allowed him to do so. “Well, first, let’s get you something to eat. You can meet the team after.”  
  
“Goodie.” Spike stated unenthusiastically as he made his way towards the door.  
  
***************************************************  
  
“As you remember, this is Fred. She helps out with the research and from what I’ve heard she can be a bit inventive when it comes to weaponry” Buffy stood at the bottom of the stairs as Angel’s team gathered around.  
  
“I once made an axe from a toaster.” Fred smiled enthusiastically. “Nice to see you up and well, Spike.”  
  
They had been informed that Spike would be coming down now, so they thought it would be best that he met them all at the same time, so once thrown into the mix there would no confusion. They had started to find some kind of a flow with the addition of Buffy’s people, so with introductions out of the way Spike was sure to find his place. After all, they were down one souled vampire now, and though they could never replace Angel, and they would never look to do so, Angel’s team did know very well what use it had to have a vampire fighting on their side. Plus, they would have the advantage of that combination with two slayers, along with everyone else’s special skills, surely resulting in evil needing to step up their game.  
  
“Over here we have Charles Gunn. He takes on a lot of the fighting, providing needed back up.” Buffy stated, continuing with her introductions.   
  
“S’up?” Gunn simply stated.  
  
“This is Lorne. He’s an empath demon and also has various connections that can prove to be useful.” Buffy pointed towards the empath demon.   
  
“Nice to meet you, Cupcake.” Lorne gave a small wave.   
  
“And last, Wesley Wyndam Pryce. he does research as well.” Buffy paused. “Oh and he’s my  _former_  watcher.” Buffy stated with emphasis.   
  
Wesley took a step forward looking at Spike almost as though he were some kind of scientific specimen. “It’s most intriguing.”  
  
“Never seen a vampire with a soul before?” Spike spoke sharply, eyeing him in annoyance.  
  
“No. It’s not that. Though, I must admit, that was quite intriguing in and of itself a few years back. Though this time it's all different. Not even a curse. A vampire gone against everything that they are. Everything that a vampire should be about.” He walked up to Spike, and looked like he was on the verge to start poking at him.  
  
“What are you getting at, Wesley?” Buffy asked, finding his behavior a little intrusive herself.  
  
Wesley looked Spike in the face. "Not even being cursed. How would that work exactly? What were the rituals to anchor it? How exactly is it anchored?” Wesley gave Spike a penetrating once-over, like he wished he had X-ray vision, reached out his hand slightly almost as if he wanted to reach out and grab Spike’s very soul, but then regained control over his actions.   
  
Spike glared at the man. Watchers, he didn’t like them. They poked and prodded. He didn’t need to be someone’s science experience. He stepped forward, and put his head right up in the annoying science nerd's face, staring him down. "Well, I'm sure you can find some book about it somewhere." Spike stated snidely, before pushing past him, bumping into his shoulder while doing so, almost knocking him down. He wanted to do more than knock him down.  
  
Wesley backed down with almost a pout on his face. “Oh.”  
  
“Getting a little personal there, Wes.” Gunn pointed out in amusement. It was just like Wesley. He had gotten a bit quieter since he had first met him. One might say that he socialized better than he had before, but here and there that overly eager enthusiasm reared its ugly head and sometimes at the most inappropriate of times.  
  
Wesley simply nodded his head. “Right. I’ll just be…I’ll be over there.” He walked back over to the counter and picked up one of his books and pretended to look through it, ignoring the fact that everyone knew there was nothing in need of researching at the moment.  
  
Fred gave Spike a soft smile. She had only seen him a few times since first meeting him, as she understood that he needed his space to heal. Given what he had gone through it was hard to say what kind of condition he’d be in emotionally, but his being down here was a good sign. She knew how hard it was to take that first step out of your room once you get comfortable in it, once you’re finally safe again. To her, anything else had seemed like a risk, the fear of more portals, or just the simple fear of being back in the world again, a world she wasn’t sure she knew how to be in anymore. It had been the fear talking. The world wasn’t so scary, even with the demons, if one could believe that. It was the threat of other worlds that got to her now. Well, that and the death of loved ones. She was still dealing with that aftermath. They all were.   
  
Her experience was different from Spike’s. She didn’t exactly know what his was and the details were being kept pretty quiet for his privacy. She understood that. Whatever it was that he had gone through he had a right to keep that between him and anyone that he chose. Either way, people dealt with their trauma differently, but she was pleased to see him trying to deal with it, moving forward, sometimes that was the best thing you could do, take that first step. “So, Spike, are you going to be heading out with the others later and go out on a patrol?  
  
Spike shook his head. “Not right away. Soon though. Need to dust off the cobwebs first.”  
  
Buffy nodded in agreement. “I’ll do a bit of sparring with him when he’s ready. One thing at a time.”  
  
Fred smiled understandingly; however, the look she saw on Spike’s face clearly told her that he had something else in mind.  
  
“Ready now, remember?” Spike spoke up.  
  
Buffy paused hesitantly. “Are you sure about that? You’re only starting to get back into a normal routine. There’s no need to overwhelm yourself.”  
  
“Get that. But, figure it’s better to do it at my pace. My pace happens to be a bit faster. Don’t see what the big deal is. Up. Better. No point in wastin’ any more time.” Spike shrugged.  
  
Buffy found that she was actually smiling at his words. It was a relief to see that he was moving right along. She had been a bit worried this morning, but he really seemed to be adjusting easily. That was Spike. He did have a way of bouncing back when most would hardly be able to get up. Maybe it was because he had been alive for so long, seen so much. His perspective was probably different than a regular human’s would be. She couldn’t figure it out personally, knowing that she herself would need more time than this, but here he was, ready to go. He was out and about. He was his old self and she was so relieved. She hadn’t known how she was going to be able to do this, care for him with everything that was going on, but she had done it anyway. Now, he was ready. It was earlier than she thought and she would have taken all the time that he needed, but here he was. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her and more than that, it made her smile to see him well again. It had been unsettling with Spike being, so, well, not Spike. She hated to see him in pain; it broke her heart.  
  
“Alright. We can get into it. But, I’m warning you, I’m not holding back.” Buffy teased.  
  
“Oh. As if I needed you to.” Spike spat out. “Wipe the floor with you.”  
  
“If you’re going to talk trash you better make sure you have the moves to back it up.” Buffy gave Spike a playful shrug.  
  
“I love it when people underestimate me. Makes the victory that much more delicious.” Spike’s predatory eyes landed on her.  
  
“Cause you’ve beaten me so many times before.” Buffy pointed out.  
  
“And you beat me? Funny, I don’t feel like I’m a big pile of dust.” Spike felt himself with his hands to double check.  
  
“Let’s go then!” Buffy bounced in front of him, worked up, ready to fight then and now.  
  
“Perhaps you’d be more comfortable in the basement where we set up the training area.” Wesley suggested somewhat annoyed.  
  
“Fine, Buzz Kill.” Buffy retorted.  
  
With that, Buffy took Spike’s hand and led him down to the basement.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
It hadn’t taken them long to get into it. Spike found that he was still surprisingly sharp given all the time that had passed since he had last done this, not to mention the fact that his body wasn’t used to being moved in such a strenuous manner. Clearly, all the time he had spent in his room, testing his muscles and working out while his lungs were still coming into place were paying off. He doubted that if he were human any of this would have been possible. Of course, if he were human, even in the best shape of his life he’d hardly be able to keep up with a Slayer. Now, he was holding his own, he had even managed to knock Buffy down a time or two. She seemed pleased. Only so strange that he wasn't. Really.  
  
Buffy and he were competitive. There was no question of that. That’s where the fun normally came in, but this time around the sparring had gone a bit differently. There was no question that when he got a hit in, knocked her down, or dodged one of her best blows, he should have gotten off on it. Had the usual thrill. But while he kept expecting those feelings to come, they never really did. Only the expectant shadow of them, hollow as it was.

 

There _was_ relief when he was able to do this; it was a sign that he was much better off than she had anticipated. He figured that she probably had expected somewhat of a disaster of a sparring session. Messy footwork, bad balance, quite possibly tripping over himself, but he swore that he caught the hint of a smile the first time he had gotten her down on the ground. He didn’t blame her for not expecting him to be on top of his game, and he hadn’t been exactly that, he needed work despite how well he was doing, but it stood to reason that he should be worse off than he truly was. It was him though. If there was one thing he had always been good at it was fighting. Well, that and a few other activities that Buffy had come to learn as well…  
  
He had expected to be proud of this. And to feel the usual fun of sparring with her. Only thing was, he didn't. The moves kept coming. Arms and legs moved like they always had. He was a master of this dance, and knew all the steps perfectly. But it was all technical. The joy and excitement of it just didn’t show up for some reason. He kept searching for it. Kept pushing forth the enthusiasm that he knew he'd normally feel right now, but it just wouldn't come. He tried picking up the speed of the dance, landed kicks and blows at a steadily quicker rate, hoping that the rush of it would soon reach his cotton-filled brain. Made himself grin broadly, and nod challengingly at her, in hope of finally managing to provoke his old passions into coming out.   
  
Buffy had noticed how his health condition had changed and she was glad for it. She knew that she couldn’t have held back on him when they had first started the fight. He would have been able to tell if she was doing so. He was perceptive that way. He was also used to fighting with her. He would have picked up on it in an instant if even a hair of the fight seemed off, so she had used her strength, speed, and skill the way she always had. It had only taken him a minute to really get his head into it and fall back into their usual ways more or less. It had been a little sloppy at first, but he had remembered quickly enough; he had been able to get his body to bend and move at the speed and accuracy that it needed to. He was still a little unpolished, but this was very promising. If he was already doing this well after one spar she was sure that soon he would be able to go out on patrol with them. She found that she was happier about the idea than she was nervous. And why shouldn’t she? He could hold his own. He wanted to hold his own. Things were falling back into place. They were settled, getting into a routine, Spike was healed, these were happy things.   
  
With one quick motion, Buffy had Spike flat on his back, looming over him; however, as she was just about to pretend stake him, Spike bucked her off him before jumping up at once, as Buffy picked herself up off the ground with a scowl on her face.  
  
“What’s that then?” Spike smirked. “We bein’ a sore loser?”  
  
“I’ve hardly lost.” Buffy stated as she and Spike began circling each other.  
  
“Losin’ if the vampire is still ‘alive’.” Spike grinned.  
  
Buffy glared.  
  
Getting under her skin like this was another thing that had always been fun. Getting a rise out of her, knowing that he’d gotten in a good verbal punch, he simply loved it. Or, at least he had used to. What was going on now? This was fun. It had to be fun. It had always been. Even back when he was just getting to know her, or when Dru had accused him of caring more about the Slayer than about her, and dumped him, the one thing that could get him out of pain and heartache was a proper spot of violence next to her. A fight with Buffy was a universal cure of all gloom. And Buffy, well, she sure was providing him with that right now. He had to spice it up just a bit more. If only he could think of another way of doing that. One that would actually allow him to start feeling the rush of it again.  
  
Spike made the first move. It was smarter to make the first move in their next round. You wanted to be the one who got the first hit in. He had been fighting for a long time now, long enough to take notice of a few minor details that slipped past most in a fight and one of the things that he noticed, was that the person who often got the first blow in usually won the fight. It wasn’t to say that you couldn’t win a fight if you were struck first, but statistically he had noticed that it wasn’t as likely.  
  
Buffy ducked the blow that came her way. One thing that was important as a Slayer was being able to predict your opponent’s next move. There was a familiarity to Spike, so in a way that helped, of course she was as familiar to him as he was to her, so no advantage there. She knew the way he thought, but he also knew the way that she thought. He was right in the past. It was like they were dancing. In a weird way it had always felt right. The feeling behind their fights had certainly changed over the years, but their movements had a rhythm of which she couldn’t remember not having existed. She made a move, he blocked it, he made a move, she ducked it. If he tried to kick, she’d grab his leg, slamming him down to the ground, only for him to knock her own legs out from underneath her, bringing her to the ground too, landing right on top of him, tangled together. She’d jump up, he’d do a kip, and they’d start again.   
  
That’s exactly what happened.  
  
Now facing each other Buffy cracked a smile.   
  
Spike looked at her curiously. “What?”  
  
Buffy shook her head. “It’s nothing. Forget it. Let’s go.”  
  
The curiosity didn’t fall from Spike’s face. “Tell me.”  
  
She should have known he wouldn’t drop it. She didn’t usually get smiley during fights. She was competitive. She wanted to beat him.  _Badly_.  
  
She wanted for once to be able to get the stake to his chest and deem him dead. It was the same for him, she knew it. He wanted to pretend to bite her, so that he could hold the victory. If she wanted to be really snarky about the whole thing she could claim she had beaten him already, and hadn’t she? The only reason he hadn’t been killed before was because he had been able to escape, like with The Gem of Amara, she remembered taking that thing right off his finger. Oh, yeah, she had owned him that day. Still, death seemed to be what determined the winner with him, or as close to it as they reasonably could come, so she’d play it his way. She didn’t mind beating him on every level if that’s what it took to prove it to him, all the sweeter the victory would be then. But, right now, she was smiling and that wasn’t the nature of their fighting. He knew it and she knew it.   
  
“It’s nothing really. I was just thinking about how many times we’ve done this.” Buffy confessed.  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
“I guess I got lost in thought about it. How much we’ve done it, how many different ways-”

  
“You sure you’re talkin’ ‘bout fightin’ there, Slayer?” Spike gave her a devilish smile.   
  
“Pig.” Buffy responded. “Our fighting has always, sort of, meshed. I don’t know how to word it right.”  
  
“We dance.” Spike grinned at her.   
  
Buffy eyed him. “All we’ve ever done is dance?”  
  
“How would you put it?” Spike questioned her.   
  
“We’re meshy?” Buffy sighed. “Okay, again, I don’t have the words.”  
  
“Good thing I do.” Spike took a step closer.  
  
“We dance. It makes sense. Even when I couldn’t stand you. We danced. What does that mean?” Buffy asked out loud, surprised that she asked it out loud. Normally, she ignored questions like that, ran away from them as fast as she could.   
  
Now, she was asking these kind of questions? Oh, she was so not ready for that. “You know, we’ve been down here for a while. I should probably take a shower before I go out patrolling.” Buffy said as she quickly made her way up out of the basement leaving Spike.  
  
Spike’s gaze fell onto the spot that Buffy had been in once before. Okay, so she was still running away, but she had spoken more of her feelings than she had ever done before. She had smiled in memory of them. There had been a point where he never could have imagined she would look back on any time of them in fondness, but she had just now. Through all the confusing feelings he had of her he recognized that there had been progress between them made once more. Right now, that was at least something.

 

He was still able to please her. Still able to bring back nice memories for her. Be the man she remembered. Even though he felt completely empty inside.

  
*************************************************  
  
It had taken some getting used to, figuring out how best to merge their two teams together, coming up with a system based off what each person brought to the table, but things were coming together. Now that the system was up and running it was time to really get to know what evil was like here in L.A. On the outside, it looked the same. They patrolled and Buffy killed vampires and demons that roamed the street, but it was known full well that they had their own personal thorn in their side, Wolfram & Hart. That playing field had just gotten a bit more interesting, with the new offer their arch enemy had recently laid on the table for them, on taking over their local branch. Angel Investigations had been handed over some serious fire power against the firm with the addition of Buffy and her friends, so they might no longer need the extra arsenal WR&H was offering them? And now that Angel was dust, the evil law firm might no longer be interested in the deal anyway? This needed figuring out, and that's what this particular meeting was for. But in order for the new gang to be of any use in that debate, and the alternate futures following it, they needed to first know the enemy inside and out. So, it was class time.  
  
Everyone had assembled in the main lobby once again. Dawn pointed out that it was much more comfortable having this many people in a hotel than all crammed into their own house. No one could argue with that. Though, speaking of home, deep down Buffy missed it, even if for the last few months there had been no elbow room. This place really didn’t feel like home to her yet. Buffy didn’t know how a hotel really could. Hotels weren’t normally permanent living arrangements.  
  
“How much do you know about Wolfram and Hart?” Wesley asked while leaning against the counter.  
  
Buffy couldn’t help but feel like she was back in a classroom again being educated by one of her teachers. It was logical, Willow and Xander were often in her classes and her teacher was normally someone she didn’t care to pay attention to. There were enough people here to fill a classroom. “It’s a law firm. Right? They’re known for getting off some of the more serious criminals. I take it with your involvement there’s a demonic connection.”   
  
“Indeed. Demons, I’m certain, make up the majority of their client list. When Angel moved into town it didn’t take long for him to become a bit of a problem for them. Then the rest of us once we began working alongside him.” Wesley explained.  
  
“The thing is Angel…well… is no longer here now. They have no further interest in us-” Wesley began.  
  
“Great. I can see why you gathered us all together then.” Xander interrupted.  
  
“The problem is I’m here, right?” Buffy spoke up seeing where this was going.  
  
“Not that they’ve said or done anything, but yeah. It’s bound to become a problem.” Gunn stated.  
  
“That was not quite what I was going at. Let me get another shot at explaining, there was special interest in Angel.” Wesley took the floor once more. “They wanted him on their side. There were those who wouldn’t have minded seeing him dust, but the rules from the Senior Partners were for him to be stopped in his antics, but not killed.”  
  
“We were expendable, of course.” Gunn rolled his eyes.   
  
“I guess cause of his cranky Angelus side they figured they could corrupt him and get him working for them.” Fred added.   
  
“Still, they’re not going to like a Slayer poking around and screwing up everything up they’ve got going on.” Gunn finished up.  
  
“I’m going to need to know everything about them. I mean  _everything_  you guys have faced.” Buffy knew Wolfram & Hart was nasty business. She had only heard Giles talk about it once or twice and then from Angel as well here and there. She wasn’t going to play around. If she was going to be stationed in L.A., she was going to get every piece of information on the biggest enemy this place had.  
  
"Now, as I was saying" Wesley continued crisply, eying them all in annoyance over the frequent interruptions. "probably on this basis, of hoping to better control and corrupt Angel, WR&H made us an offer recently, that we have been considering quite carefully, to take over and run the whole L.A. branch of the law firm. We have discussed the matter, and thought we should do it. As the status quo stands now, they're stronger, mightier and richer than us, but we have the strongest beliefs, strongest moral character, and most motivating cause. In a pure battle of wills, we'd win. And if we can take over their machinery and their resources to do it, then double bad on them." He gave the room a confident gaze. "The problem is, their offer was to Angel - the souled vampire. Now that he's dust, it might not stand anymore."   
  
“What about Spike?” Dawn spoke up.   
  
Everyone’s eyes fell on Dawn. Well everyone besides Spike’s that was, which Buffy noticed. She knew that he had a tendency to zone out here and there during meetings, but usually he perked right up when his name was mentioned. She shrugged, Wesley had been doing most of the talking; she couldn’t blame him for being that far gone. “What about him?”  
  
“He has a soul. Couldn’t Wolfram and Hart be interested in him too?” Dawn inquired, albeit rather somewhat concerned than showing any kind of support for Wesley's proposed project. She had just gotten him back after all. They had just become friends again. The idea there was a possibility that they’d claim him, or change him, didn’t sit too well with her.  
  
“Spike’s soul is permanent. It isn’t cursed.” Willow answered reassuringly.  
  
“Yes, I do believe that Spike could peak their interest in this situation." Wesley looked at him with renewed interest. "We dont know, he's not Angel, but, if he is picking up that mantel..."  
  
Buffy’s eyes fell on Spike. “What do you think?”  
  
Spike’s mind hadn’t been on the meeting for very long before it had wandered off to other places. He hadn’t realized it, not while he was doing it, causing him to almost miss Buffy addressing him, but her eyes wouldn’t lift from him. He could sense the room staring at him. He snapped out of his thoughts. “Ah…” They were waiting for him to answer something. Somehow he had a feeling that he couldn’t give them a satisfying response by simply stating yes or no. 

  
“What? Could hardly keep focus what with Watcher Boy dronin’ on.”  
  
Buffy smirked. It seemed that he had been convincing enough. It was true, listening to Wesley of all people talk was about the last thing that he wanted to do. Even so, he should be able to keep focus for one lousy meeting. It wasn’t just the normal meetings that he had gotten used to Buffy giving in the months leading up to war, well, the ones he had been present during anyway. Those had been all about rousing the room and inspiring all the girls out there to go out there and be the best wannabe slayers that they could be. It was safe for him to drift as far away as he wanted to then. He knew when to pay attention and right now he knew very well that he needed to, and yet his mind ran off the first second that it could. He practically growled at himself, but doing so would only raise questions. He took in a deep breath. He could do this. He could listen. That’s all it was, it was listening, and he was better at that than most. He’d just have to lock into the discussion. Lock in and stay put. He could do that.   
  
“We were talking about an offer from Wolfram and Hart that originally was for Angel and their possible interest in you.” Wesley explained, somewhat annoyed.  
  
He snorted. “What? I’m suddenly goin’ to be their lil replacement?”   
  
“Something like that.” Gunn shrugged.  
  
“Well, hate to break it to ‘em, but I'm nothing like Angel. Not for jumpin’ through hoops they deliberately set up for me. Don’t stand up on the top of buildin’s and overlook the city, pattin’ myself on the back quietly while I look down at all the lives I’m ‘bout to save with the wind blowin’ through my poncy hair.” Spike rolled his eyes.  
  
Buffy elbowed him.  
  
Spike found that oddly enough he didn’t get satisfaction out of putting Angel down like he normally did. It was strange, insulting him was usually always the right pick me up for him or at least it helped him out somewhat. Not this time. Angel was just dust. He was stuck in the bottom of a crater where Sunnydale used to be. He was gone. Off to an eternity filled with who knows what. Probably hellish torture. Spike had to figure it. Wasn’t that what was waiting for him when he finally dusted one day? Hell. Wood could certainly give them a few pointers down there.   
  
“Hello? Spike.” Buffy snapped her fingers in his face.  
  
Again? He had zoned out again! “What?”  
  
“I don’t know. Could you pay attention for five seconds?” Buffy looked at him in annoyance.   
  
“Sorry, wasn’t in the mood for history lesson is all." Ok. The talk had clearly continued, and he hadn't even known it. _No, Buff. Can’t pay attention for more than five seconds. Becomin’ a bit of a problem!_  A problem it was. Maybe it was just the day. Everyone had days where they couldn’t focus. That had to be all it was. It had to be…  
  
“It’s quite alright. I don’t think there’s anything left to discuss for the moment. Wolfram and Hart’s interest, or lack thereof, will reveal itself on its own. Until then, all we can do is wait and watch, and lay plans both for a future of corrupting them from the inside, and alternately continuing fighting them from the outside.   
  
"Ok", Buffy said. “Before you go on, I have just one more question: Are you guys absolutely stupid?" She gave the whole AI team a look to reinforce her statement. "You know these lawyers are smart, resourceful, and putting huge effort into corrupting Angel. Then they give him an offer that screams 'honey trap' all the way, and you fall for it? You are what you do, and who you socialize with. How long do you think you'd be able to work in their circles and take part in their world without it influencing you? Like you said, we're talking massive power here. Power that's only partially yours to control. You may believe you're strong enough to wield it, but you'd never know, until you're there." At this point she stopped, and shared a long and poignant look with Willow. "I'd say don’t take it. Or it will very easily control you."   
  
Spike watched as the debate back and forth continued. He tried desperately to find some way to let their words penetrate the thick fog that filled his head. It was all but impossible. He wanted out. There wasn’t much left for him to do right now anyway. Normally, during these times in the past he’d go flip the television on and catch whatever was being aired, but right now he wasn’t in the mood for that either. His mind was running with thoughts that never congealed into something solid. He needed to get his head on straight. It was easy enough to readjust, he was sure that it was, so he simply just had to get it together. He was better than this. He sat there on the couch and stared off. Soon, he was floating off to somewhere else once more.  
  
***************************************************

  
Though much may be unsettled between them, the Buffy and Angel team full heartedly agreed on one thing. Going on patrol was of the good. Spike had insisted on going with them, hoping that fresh night air and a real round of demon killing might do what sparring and endless discussions could not, in clearing up and kickstarting his mind. In order to be able to reach out to and help as many of the helpless as possible, they agreed to split up into two teams, with one slayer on each. Buffy had no idea how Gun, Wes and Kennedy was fairing, but it hadn't taken long after they split up before she, Spike and Willow had run up against a right little pack of nasties.   
  
She had gotten the pleasure of staking the first one, with Willow hot on her heel, taking down another. She looked up at Spike, and was proud to see that he too, though noticeably rusty, was still holding his own against one after another. But then, suddenly, he weren't.  
  
The stake went flying from Spike’s hand as he stumbled backwards before catching himself. “Bloody hell.” This thing had surprising stamina! He had gotten by just as expected, taken down the others, but this bugger just kept sticking around! And now he had to reclaim that stupid stake. He threw a punch towards the vampire, trying to get back into the game. The one thing he knew for certain was he needed that stake if he were going to get the kill. Though that was easier said than done. It felt like he was punching empty air. His adversary always seemed to have a way of dodging his blows, and an uncanny knack for getting in his own. Dammit! There was no other vampire that could outdo him this way! He clearly wasn’t in the game the way he needed to be.   
  
The vampire lunged at him, full force, jumping in the air, doing a roundhouse kick. It was only at the last second Spike picked up on what he was doing, just barely dodging the act. He took in a breath. That was close. Not that he couldn’t have recovered-   
  
Another punch knocked him in the face.  _Focus!_  He wanted this fight to be over and done with. The sooner he got his head into it the faster that would happen. He threw his own set of punches, aiming for areas he knew would work well enough, getting one right in the gut before lifting his left up and kneeing the vampire in the groan. He had done this a thousand times before. Punch and kick and stake. He’d just had to get the stake.   
  
The vampire could read his intentions perfectly well. He was not going to be taken down that easily. "What?" he taunted. "The great William the Bloody gone weak?" Not packing the punch that we've heard so much about any more?” "Ah, so you've heard of me?" Spike shot back, and gave the top of the other vampire's head a mocking stare. "Should've known you were a fan, with that hairdo" The other guy cringed in embarrassment. He had indeed the exact same color and style as Spike did. And it was true he had known of him for a long time. This wasn't a Spike he recognized though. He was waiting for that passion, that drive, that he was rumored to have, but instead the great vampire seemed almost out of steam. He charged once more letting Spike know exactly what he was going to find coming into these parts of the land.  
  
Spike dodged the first couple of hits, remembering the rhythm of the fight, following the steps the way he had learned them, but after one, two, three moves, he miscalculated, being kicked down onto the ground. He rolled his eyes. It was never ending it seemed. He then gazed up at the vampire that was now looming over him, who grabbed him, holding him to the ground, his fangs out as he leaned down and bit into his neck.  
  
Spike’s eyes practically popped out of his head. Surely, this vampire knew that he was already dead. It was dominance. He was letting Spike know who was stronger  _before_  he dusted him. He could feel the other guy grabbing hold, ready to twist his neck around at any moment.  
  
Buffy kicked an oncoming vampire square in the chest, a remarkably stinky one, who desperately needed a bath, in the off chance that he should survive this fight, and as he went backwards her focus stayed on Spike, as she could see him on the ground with a pair of fangs at his neck. Hell no! She quickly pushed aside and ran away from the vampire that she was fighting before she made her way over to him, diving into his fight, and tossing Blondie on top of him away. That would've worked great, if it wasn't for how old Stinky naturally caught up with them and pushed Spike right down again, just as he was making a move to rise. Dammit!   
  
She didn't know what she would've done if Willow hadn't shown up right then, within striking distance, picked up the stake Spike had dropped, and tossed it to her, enabling her aim clearly, and throw it straight into Stinky's heart, while still having her old stake to oppose Blondie with. She deftly circled around him, grabbed him from behind while he was focusing on Spike, and ended up holding him by the collar of his shirt, checking that Spike was focusing on her, and tossing him the stake underhand, to finish the thing off.   
  
Spike rose, his hand touching his neck, feeling the blood on it before catching the stake that Buffy tossed his way. She held out the vampire for him, he looked down at the stake in his hand for a moment before looking at the vampire that she was holding out for him. He took in a breath before he slammed the stake into the vampire’s heart, causing him to explode into a pile of dust.   
  
As the dust settled, Buffy cautiously walked up to Spike, and reached out a hand to touch the scratch at his neck, where the other vampire had bitten him. “I could have lost you. Again. Only this time for good.”   
  
Spike felt himself put his arms around her, hugging her close, resting his head on his shoulder as he did so. “Right here, Buff. Right here.”  
  
After staying that way for a few long moments, Buffy broke the hug and looked at him. “We need to get you back to the hotel. Sun will be up in not too long.” Buffy commented as Willow made her way over.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes.   
  
“Is everything okay?” Willow asked.   
  
“It’s fine. He just got knocked down. .” Buffy responded nonchalantly.   
  
“Yeah.” Willow looked at Spike sympathetically. “That’s alright. There were a lot of them. Almost got knocked down myself.”  
  
Spike snorted. “Don’t need your pity, Red.” He then looked at Buffy. “Don’t need coddlin’ either. Fine.”  
  
“Stop being a jerk, Spike.” Buffy looked at him seriously. “We’re trying to help you.”  
  
“Don’t need it. Not some helpless ponce anymore.” Spike commented.   
  
“No, you’re just a ponce. Is that better?” Buffy put her hands on her hips.   
  
Spike sighed. "I’m fine is all. It’s not worse than any other fight I’ve been in before. Can take it.”  
  
“Look, let’s just go back to the hotel. It’s been a long night.” Buffy eased up on her tone, letting their little spat go.  
  
Spike nodded in agreement and with that the three of them took off back towards the hotel.   
  
***************************************************  
  
Spike had gone straight up to bed once he had come home. No one had questioned his disappearing. It wasn’t unlike him to go off on his own. He just felt so worn out. He needed his room. He needed a bed. He needed sleep. He collapsed on the bed once alone, not bothering to undo the bed sheets or get out of his clothes. And waited for sleep to come.

 


	13. In The Dark

 

 _Get Up!_  Spike had been telling himself that for… he didn’t know how long now. He had gone to bed a long time ago; he should be more than rested! And probably would be, if it weren’t for how his body didn’t seem to be able to agree with itself on whether sleep was a good idea or not. On the one hand - he had gone to bed last night bone tired, with a mind and body that seemed on the verge of simply shutting down, craving for the bed. But once he’d gotten there, and pulled the blankets well over his head, that same body didn’t seem able to get into sleep mode. For the umpteenth time in the last weeks. Every muscle was tense and taut, and his mind seemed to be running fast on idle speed, changing from this image to the next, at a pace that made him dizzy. At least he had his breath back. It was always the easiest part to control. Just focus on the breath. Steady, slow, deep breaths that with time could serve to get the rest of him to slow down enough to at least get half a day’s sleep. Hopefully without nightmares this time.  
  
When he woke up, he could sense through the carefully shuttered window that the sun was already down. The others, and, hopefully, especially Buffy, would perhaps be waiting for him downstairs. She had been so happy about his progress in activity yesterday. He had a reputation to fill there. He could get up. He could move on and put this whole nasty business of the last weeks or months behind him. He was Spike - the Slayer of Slayers, the vampire no one could keep down for long, who eagerly sought out danger, and laughed at the prospect of defeat. Nothing could keep him down for long! Yet, he didn’t seem to be able to get up. His limbs felt like they were filled with solid lead, too heavy to be moved an inch. And it was like a big black cloud was congealing around his head, clouding his vision of everything but stark, empty darkness.   
  
It wasn’t too dark not to notice that she came in through. Smiling, shining, with bright clothes and a brighter mood. “Wake up, Sunshine. Time to rise and shine!”   
  
 _I know, Sweetheart. Would that I could._  He tried winning some time with a joke. “Don’t you know how dangerous sunshine is?”  
  
She laughed and gave him a warm smile. “Yeah, I know. But I’d say you’re quite dangerous enough yourself to deserve the title. And it’s well after sunset now. You can get up safe and sound”  
  
He tried. Imagined lifting his leaden feet off the bed to swing out of it. Couldn’t. He ended up sending her a glare instead. At least he could muster that. “Well, I’m not in the mood for it now.”   
  
She smiled, walked around the bed, and put her hands on her hips. “Well, it’s way past wake up time, even for vampires. Come on! We were having so much fun yesterday.”  
  
 _No, we weren’t. But I appreciate that you think so, pet._    
  
“Right. It was so much fun when first I was bein’ poked and prodded at by Wesley, or my bleedin’ soul rather, puttin’ it right there out on display for the lot of ‘em to see. Or was the fun part the way that all of ‘em were starin’ at me like I was some fragile piece of glass ready to shatter? Of course, in fairness, most of ‘em had the sense to keep their mouths shut. Did all the talkin’ with their eyes. They didn’t have to talk. Watcher Boy had that covered. But, we went over that already. Bloke does like to hear himself talk. Drones on and on. Fancies himself in charge since he thinks he’s the new Giles. Don’t know what he’s gettin’ all preacher teacher ‘bout. Soddin’ pounces they are. As if they weren’t all snoozin’ through Wesley’s lecture too. Don’t know how you weren’t. Must be the Slayer in you. Higher tolerance for pain and what have you…”  
  
“Alright.” Buffy put her hand up, cutting him off. “I get it. Meeting them didn’t exactly go as planned, but it wasn’t  _that_  bad. I’ll admit, Wesley let his mouth get away with him. As usual. But the rest of them weren’t that bad. I’ve gotten to know them and I think you’d find you like them if you got to too.”  
  
Spike snorted.  
  
“It’s true. You aren’t giving them half a chance. Honestly, half of the things you just said was like grasping at straws. It’s like you don’t want to like them.” Buffy stated in a huff.   
  
“Oh, now I don’t feel what I feel. All in my head, is it?” Spike glared   
  
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m sure you feel what you feel. I’m sure you didn’t care for meeting them, but you’re also blowing minimal things out of proportion.” Buffy responded evenly.   
  
“Easy for you to say. Not the one on the recievin’ end of it” He scoffed. “Just not up for another day of this.” Spike declared.  
  
Buffy studied Spike for a moment, not speaking. This wasn’t Spike. Well, it was Spike, but it wasn’t the way he usually was, not when he was simply annoyed or put off by someone. No, this was him when he wasn’t feeling like himself, when he was more so…out of sorts. He was completely taking himself out of the equation, out of the fight that he loved so much, detaching himself from the group. He wanted them away from him. It was as if he wanted to be isolated. He wanted everyone shut out of his unlife. He had never exactly buddied up with anyone before, but he was always, in a weird way, part of the group. Especially, in the last year. This was defensive Spike. He became increasingly more and more difficult when he wanted nothing to do with something. Getting more obnoxious the worse he felt.   
  
The realization worried her. She had been so happy to see that everything was getting back to normal, that he, true to his habit, were back up and at it, and moving on after the ordeal he’d been through. Like he always did in the past, whatever hit him. He had the most reliable stamina of all her friends (and enemies). Now that the whole world was changing around her - when she had just gotten out of an apocalypse barely alive herself, had lost so many, and were even never gonna see her hometown again, she could not afford this to change too!  
  
”Come on! What’s gotten into you?” she stated in what she hoped was an inspiring tone. “Life goes on. And I know you’re not a quitter. Shit happens. You and I know that better than anyone. But we don’t deal with that by covering under the blankets in bed forever. You’re the strongest fighter I know. You never give up on anything, no matter how many times someone take you down. You’re bigger than this. You just need to get up!”  
  
 _I know, Buffy. I know!_  Why was it so hard to move on this time? It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been done in right and proper. He’d been held locked down and tortured by an actual Hellgod, and managed to turn the situation to his advantage, by not giving the bitch anything, finding a way to slip away, and even using the situation to make Buffy see him in a different light. The memory still almost made him smile. He had gone through a whole soul gain depression, practically fallen apart, with a mental wilderness that far out weighted this little bump in the road that he had going now, and still been ready to get up and make himself useful as soon as Buffy asked him to. And the last time the First had gotten it’s non-corporeal hands on him, he had been able to pull himself together and get past it right away. It had cost though. Like the pain was bottled in, in all the empty bottles his mind contained. And now, when he’d been through the wringer again, so soon after, it was like there was no more storage capacity left, and all those old bottles broke and spilled over, pouring out into a deep blue ocean of incontrollable gloom.   
  
She didn’t seem to get that though. And there’s no way he was gonna try to explain it. He barely had the strength to confess it to himself. She had finally come to respect him it seemed, she had been so happy with things yesterday. He dearly wanted to keep pleasing her, making her proud. But every move he made to get up, it seemed that inner ocean kept counteracting it, cancelling out the initiative. He knew Buffy was still there, looking at him, and with his shame rising, he turned to say something sharp about how she might want to consider easing off a little and leave him alone, when she bent forward and grabbed his foot from under the blankets, pulling it out onto the floor. Ok, that’s it! His foot bent back, and he put enough force into it to kick her all the way across the room, and smash into the dresser in the corner.  
  
Ouch. He had not really meant to do that! For a moment, their eyes were locked in a shocked gaze, and then she got up and ran out. He really wished he had had the strength to run after her.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy gripped the railing of the stairway. With all the people that lived in this hotel it was a miracle that no one seemed to be around to find her in this state, but for that, she was grateful.   
  
It had been an accident. She knew that. She had seen the look on his face. He had reacted. She didn’t know what scared her more, the fact that he had reacted so fiercely or the fact that he reacted that fiercely over simply not wanting to get out of bed. What a mess things had become. She felt bad. She had pushed too hard. No, she wasn’t making excuses for the way he had reacted. She hadn’t been aggressive enough to deserve that, but the rational voice in her head reminded her that he had been tortured for a month. He never would have done so otherwise. He wasn’t himself. She had recognized it when talking to him and his kneejerk reaction had confirmed it. Then she knew.  _That’s_  what scared her the most.   
  
Spike without a soul, Spike with a chip, that was the Spike that violence had erupted with. Not now, not him, not with a soul. The only time she had ever raised a hand to him once he had become good was when The First had control of him and he was taking chunks out of people’s necks. Spike himself, he never had gotten that way with her since he had joined her side, in the permanent way, unless it was for her own good. So much of moments ago wasn’t like him. So much of this whole evening wasn’t like him and she found, oddly enough, that she wasn’t using what had happened to wash her hands of him as she might have in the past. She wasn’t really even angry, a bit taken aback by it, but not angry. Deep  _deep_  concern.  
  
Buffy sighed, pushing herself away from the railing, and made her way down into the hotel kitchen. Her thoughts on Spike never ceased. He had been doing so well yesterday! It had been like battling side by side the old Spike. Today he had awoken in a mood. It was like he wanted to fight to the point where he had allowed himself to spin a little out of control.  
  
Even so, that feeling of badness persisted. It couldn’t be easy. With everything that he had gone through she couldn’t expect him to simply shake it off and be fine with what was done to him. If she had gone through what he had been through, first, she wouldn’t be alive. Beyond that, she figured she’d be bound to wake up on the wrong side of the bed from time to time too. She needed to be considerate of that, what he went through. It was hard for her, feelings, she knew this. She wasn’t completely blind. Hey, wasn’t that part of the reason why she had gone on that vision quest some two years ago? She had felt it was becoming such a problem she thought that being a Slayer was somehow making her colder. She knew better now. She did care. She cared a lot, but it came out differently than it did with some. Right now, he needed listening Buffy, not action Buffy. When she found the human that had done this to him then that side of herself was more than welcome to come out. Right now, he didn’t seem ready to talk about it, so she didn’t want to push.   
  
In the spirit of not wanting to push she decided to make him breakfast. Okay, so making Spike breakfast only entailed her heating him up blood, but it was the thought that counted. He needed to get some good sustenance in him. She still worried that he was a bit underweight. The blood could be her peace offering.

  
He had been a little weary about food, but even he indulged in breakfast. There had been a time where blood and the telly were the two great loves of his life. She had thought about getting him a television for his room, but she had since rethought that knowing he’d never leave if she went that route.   
  
She paused thoughtfully as she put the blood into the microwave. This wouldn’t do. It wasn’t enough. It felt too much like it was part of their routine to be a piece offering. He did eat people food she remembered all too well. She had never understood it, but she remembered him mentioning that he liked the texture of it. Maybe including a plate of food would help with her offering. It might help him remember the other positive sides of life that he had before he had been taken. His head must be filled with a lot of negative memories, it was time to put some good ones back in there. Sometimes it was the simpler things in life, like hot wings and Weetabix, that mattered most.   
  
After working in the kitchen for a little bit she was able to put everything together for him. She had blood, she had the foods that she remembered seeing him eating around her house, this should work.   
  
Buffy made her way up towards his room, the tray in her hands. She paused outside his door with a frown on her face. Okay, she hadn’t thought this part through, the no hands part. “Hmmm.” She lifted her foot up and stamped it against the door as her way of knocking.   
  
After a moment, Spike came to the door with a quizzical look on his face. Given what he had just done, knowing that he needed to make it right he had to answer the door. Plus, she had knocked which had completely thrown him for a loop. He almost said aloud,  _normally, you just kick in the door_ , but she probably would take the joke the wrong way. After the way he had just acted, after what he had done, he didn’t have it in him to tease her. He couldn’t understand why she was up here after what he had just done. It was hard to look her in the face, but if he could kick her across the room then he could look her in the eyes.  
  
Buffy saw the regret in his eyes. She knew he felt terrible. It was why she hadn’t stayed away. Breakfast very well might have been a peace offering, but underneath that, she knew it was also an excuse. It was a reason to come back, to make things right between them.  
  
She made her way inside past him, the look of confusion and regret on his face never leaving.   
  
“What’s this then?” He inquired softly.  
  
“It’s breakfast.” Buffy set the tray of food down on his bed. “In bed. Only you’re out of bed. So, you need to get back in.”  
  
“Thought you wanted me out.” He stated quietly, trying to keep his tone light, but failing miserably.   
  
He knew that she was trying. The fact that she was trying made him feel worse. It was bad enough that he had been so sharp with her before, but then to get violent, in all honesty, he could hardly stand himself. It was hard, feeling what he had been feeling, and the last thing he wanted to do was show such vulnerability to anyone, even if he could trust them. That was no excuse to fight the way that he had fought her. He could have just pulled his leg back out of her grip, but instead he had knocked her away. He had been far too violent.  
  
Buffy could see the inner conflict going on. There was no way that they were going to brush right past this. She ran away from feelings and he drowned himself in them. Right now, she couldn’t indulge in the luxury of running away. It only furthered the despair that he had found himself in when waking up.   
  
“Buffy…” Spike began just as she was about to speak.  
  
She didn’t let him finish, cutting him off, knowing what he was going to say. She didn’t want to put him through that kind of torture. The kind where he felt he had confront a sort of abuse that she felt was non-existent. “You don’t have to say anything. It was an accident. I know.”  
  
Spike looked up at the ceiling, completely exasperated with himself. “I never wanted to hurt you. You’re the last person I want to hurt.”  
  
Buffy set the tray down on the bed and then walked back across the room, taking his hands in hers gently. “You didn’t hurt me.”  
  
Spike looked towards her in disbelief.   
  
Buffy’s opinion was not to be swayed. “You reacted. I was making you do something you didn’t want to do. Again. And you reacted.”  
  
 _Like when I bit you?_ Spike was starting to notice a pattern of his and he wasn’t fond of it. He didn’t dare say this out loud. She was aware of his past faults.   
  
“Spike, you’ve had choice taken away from you for too long. Even small things like getting up I shouldn’t physically push you to do. It’s hard for me. I want to help. I want to do, but it’s not an excuse.” Buffy sighed. “I’m not saying that the way you reacted was right, but I think I get it.”  
  
Spike sighed, clearly not willing to accept her acceptance.

  
“How about you forgive me for pushing you emotionally and I’ll forgive you for pushing me physically?” Buffy smiled at him softly. “We’ll call it even.”  
  
Spike nodded his head softly. She knew that he still felt guilt, but maybe as the day went on and as he continued to get better he’d become rational over this. They just had to press on.   
  
“Good. So, how about that breakfast?” Buffy smiled good-naturedly.   
  
He looked down at the food on his bed. His stomach should have been rumbling right now. It wasn’t. It was doing the exact opposite. Putting food into his mouth was just about the last thing he wanted to do. The idea of being able to get back in bed and stay there, that much, he liked. He climbed in, going so far as to put the covers over him, which resulted in a slight smile from Buffy. He didn’t make a move for the food though, not right away. “Thanks for this. Don’t really deserve it.”  
  
Buffy looked at him sincerely. “You really do.”  
  
The look on her face, the gesture she made, he couldn’t let her down. Not again. He’d already done as much. He didn’t want to again. She had gone out of her way to be more than good to him, in this moment, and since she had found him. In fact, it was even dating before any of this happened that she had gone out of her way for him. He just couldn’t bear the idea of hurting her again. It was becoming far too many times that he already had. He was going to let her know just how much all of this meant to him. He’d eat each and every bite of the food she had put before him. This was about more than his own feelings of apathy and this utter exhaustion that wouldn’t let up. There was another factor and it was staring him right in the face. It was Buffy.  
  
“Here. Eat.” Buffy lifted the plate to him. “Or do you want your blood first?’  
  
Spike forced a smile. “Know me. Like to dip the food into the blood.”  
  
“Okay, I’m just going to move right past how ‘ew’ that is and just put this…”Buffy lifted the tray up and shifted it onto his lap, so he could reach everything easily. “Right here…How’s that?”

  
“Perfect, Pet. Thanks.”   
  
Spike stared down at the plate in front of him. One would think it’d be easier. You just shove it in, swallow, and ignore what your stomach was telling you, that it had so many knots and lumps in it that there really wasn’t room for anything else. It wasn’t that easy. He found that he needed to mentally prepare for it. It felt suffocating in its own way. And nauseating.

  
He began shoveling food into his mouth, not too quickly; he didn’t want to seem too eager to get it over with. He didn’t want Buffy to detect what a chore this really was for him. So, he took it as at a leisurely pace while they shared small talk in between bites. It seemed quicker to her he was sure, but eventually every last bit of food was gone.   
  
Buffy smiled down at his empty plate seemingly pleased. “I’m glad to see your appetite is finally coming back.”  
  
As she bent down to lift up the plate she noticed an odd look on Spike’s face, something wasn’t right. “Spike, what’s going on? Are you alright?”  
  
He tried to say something or nod his head, anything to assure her that he was fine. The flip flops his stomach was doing were sure to pass after all. He tried to swallow, wet his lips a bit, anything that could somehow make the intense queasiness in his stomach disappear, but nothing was working.

  
“Spike…” Buffy sat down on the side of the bed and gently brushed some loose curls out of his face.  
  
He tried to keep back what was coming, but before he knew it his breakfast had come right back up again, all over the tray and the blankets he had covered himself with.  
  
Lucky for Buffy, her Slayer reflexes worked for her and she had jumped up and out of the way before risking to be sprayed.   
  
Spike moaned softly to himself as he laid back against the pillows, his stomach feeling a bit better, but that exhaustion falling over him all the heavier now.  
  
Buffy was at his side immediately once more. “Spike, are you okay?” She paused as her eyes scanned the mess that he was in. “We’ve got to get you cleaned up.”  
  
She collected the tray and his drenched blanket, and gently patted at his mouth with a clean edge of it, before hurrying off to the bathroom, disposing of the dirty laundry as quickly as she could before getting back to him.

  
There was a knock at the door. Buffy immediately looked in that direction as she heard Willow’s voice on the other side of the door.  
  
“Hey, Buffy. You in there?”  
  
Buffy quickly made her way over the door, opening it, but stepping out into the hallway to give Spike his privacy.

  
“Buffy…” Willow gave her a confused look, seeing that there was something clearly on her mind. “Wesley asked that I get you. There’s something he wants to talk with you about. Is everything okay?”  
  
“Ah yeah. Well, no. Sort of. Just…I have a thing going on.” Buffy pointed towards the door.   
  
“A thing? A bad thing?” Willow looked at her quizzically.  
  
“No. Well yeah. Sort of. Spike is sick. Wesley’s just going to have to wait a bit. I have to get him cleaned up. Just…just wait here a second.”  
  
Willow nodded her head. “Sure. I’ll be here.”  
  
Buffy quickly made her way inside Spike’s room to care of him. So much for her peace offering. It hadn’t gone according plan, but something told her that more than just spilled breakfast was the problem here.  
  
***************************************************  
  
After getting Spike’s sheets replaced. Buffy had sat next to him for a little while before remembering that Willow was still waiting for her, the patient friend that she was, but she did really need to talk to her. Even so, it was hard to leave Spike’s side. But after a few more reassurances that he was feeling better, she tore herself away from him and made her way out into the hallway.   
  
“Everything alright?” Willow asked. She had seen Buffy come out with dirty sheets and back in with new ones. She had thought about offering to help, but the Slayer seemed quite intent on keeping Spike’s room private for the moment. She was just glad Buffy seemed to have time to come out now, and hoped she hadn’t intruded too much.  
  
“Not really.” Buffy looked up at Willow with troubled eyes. “Something’s wrong with him.”  
“Well, I think that’s to be expected.” Willow stated matter-of-factly. “What’s he doing?”  
  
“Nothing.” Buffy sighed and shook her head. “Just barfing up the breakfast that I gave him.”   
  
Willow grimaced. That explained the dirty sheets. “Sounds like he’s pretty down.”  
  
“He’s something. He can’t be sick. Vampires don’t get sick.” Buffy tilted her head to the side. “Do they?”  
  
“I think it’s more psychological, Buffy.” Willow paused. “I’ll admit, we’re all sort of used to Spike getting into trouble and then bouncing back from it. He’s kind of been our damsel in distress lately.”  
  
Buffy’s eyes widened. “Don’t say that. Vampire. Only a door separating us. He’ll hear you.”  
  
Willow put her hand up. “Alright. Got ya. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. We’ve all needed a bit of rescuing at times. I just mean this past year The First really targeted him. We saw him take a lot. Not to mention Glory before all of this. He was always fine.”   
  
“And…”  
  
Willow gave her a knowing look. “Everyone has a breaking point.”

 

Buffy leaned up against the wall of the hallway. She was right. She knew something was wrong with Spike and in a bigger sense than waking up on the wrong side of the bed. He was majorly stressed out. Like, in the literally gut wrenching way. Still, it would be so much easier if it was a vampire flu, which was nonexistent, but simpler to deal with than what they were actually facing. “What do I do? I’m not exactly good at this.”  
  
“Talk to him. Try to get him to open up. See if he can verbalize what he’s feeling. Having all these thoughts running around in your head. The dark ones.” Willow made a face. “No fun there. He’s not going to get better with only himself to work everything out with.”  
  
“He needs to talk.” Buffy spoke, insecurity written all over her face.   
  
Willow nodded. “Who knows? Maybe that’ll be enough. Maybe not. But it’ll be something. A start.”  
  
“Right.” Buffy paused. “How urgent is Wesley’s news or whatever it is.’  
  
Willow shrugged. “Not urgent enough for him to be storming the stairs looking for you. I don’t think it’s really news so much as just polishing our coming together. He’s a little obsessive.”  
  
“Wesley? Obsessive? You must have the wrong guy.” Buffy stated sarcastically.   
  
Willow grinned. “The big evil isn’t brewing. Not that we know of. He probably just doesn’t know what to do with himself without anything to research.”  
  
“At least he’s not up here trying to interview Spike again.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t bite humans anymore, but Wesley, he might make an exception there.”  
  
Willow laughed and then gave Buffy a sympathetic smile. “Just talk to Spike. But be gentle.”  
  
With one final smile, Willow made her way down the hallway leaving Buffy to deal with a whole other kind of demon.  
  
***************************************************  
  
  
Buffy laid next to Spike as he either slept or was pretending to sleep to avoid talking, running her hand softly through his hair. When thinking about it, she didn’t really have problems understanding how he was feeling today. She remembered the feeling all too well. There were so many days that she wouldn’t have bothered to get out of bed if she could avoid it. She of all people should be able to recognize the signs this mood was giving. She had been recognizing the signs all day. She just didn’t want them to be true. It was hard to continue to overlook the fact that he wasn’t himself. Yet, part of her wanted it to just be that he had gotten physically fit again, so all this was, was him things, nothing more than that. She couldn’t let herself believe the truth, not completely, until he said it out loud himself.  
  
After waiting by his side for a little while longer Buffy felt Spike stir and then groan. He rolled over onto his side, facing her. He then lifted his eyebrow as he often did out of confusion or bewilderment.  
  
“You still here?” Spike asked with unconvincing surprise.   
  
Buffy gave him a soft smile. “Where else would I be?”  
  
Spike gave a little shrug. “Slayin’ some baddie, I wager. Is ‘bout that time, yeah?”  
  
Buffy nodded her head. “Yeah, but there are a lot of us now. A lot of us that are capable. They can do without me for a night.”  
  
“And you were hasslin’ me ‘bout getting’ out of bed.” Spike forced an amused snort.  
  
There was that forgery. Buffy hadn’t seen it yesterday, or even earlier today, but now it was clear as day. She remembered it from her own time when she had been down in the dumps, which was putting it lightly. How could she have missed that forced amusement and forced smiles before? Forced everything…She just hadn’t thought to look for it. She had never needed to with him before.  
  
 _Depression_. She couldn’t kid herself any longer. She knew. Recognized all the symptoms. But it hurt so much just to admit to that, that she didn’t really know what to do.  
  
Buffy got out of the bed, kneeling down in front of him, tilting his chin up so he had to look her in the face. She couldn’t leave him be. Perhaps he did need a little bit of Spike time, but she wasn’t so sure about how good that would be, leaving him to all these dark feelings all alone. She sooner wanted to let him know very clearly that he was not alone. “I remember. I remember being exactly where you are.”  
  
Spike didn’t speak, but simply looked at her, expressionless.   
  
That was okay, for now. He didn’t need to say anything. He didn’t need to appear as though he were listening. She knew that he was. “Our circumstances were different, but what we’re feeling has enough similarities. It was so hard to go on, when I came back from death. I see it’s hard for you too. I’m sure you’re giving yourself a lot of hell for it too, that, you can trust me, you really don’t have to! You might be saying to yourself that you should be happier. You might be feeling like you don’t recognize who you are anymore. You might be ashamed. But…”  
  
If she had struck a nerve he didn’t let her know about it. She wondered for a moment if he was dissociating. Maybe he really wasn’t here at this moment. She’d have to find a way to lock into him. She had to. Though it was he who usually was the good one at catching her attention. She decided to take a page out of his book. She took a deep breath, and sang. “Life is not a song. Life is not bliss, life is just this, it’s living. You’ll get along. The pain that you feel, it only can heal by living. You have to go on living.”  
  
He froze, and huffed. “I was such a fool back then, huh?” he quipped, with a small, humorless laugh. She took his hand and made him look at her. “No, you were not.” she said firmly, before adding with a little smile “It worked for me.” She held his gaze for a long time, in silence. Then he let out a small sigh. “Don’t know what you want me to say, Buffy.”  
  
Buffy shook her head, and continued to give him a look of sympathy. “I don’t expect you to say anything at all, Spike. There isn’t a right or wrong answer in this conversation. There doesn’t have to be an answer at all. I want you to understand something. You’re not alone. I was there. You remember that I was there. And it was you who was comforting me. It was you who helped me back.”  
  
Spike simply shrugged at that.  
  
Buffy gave a soft smile. “You drag yourself through the days. Each second that you drag yourself feels like its own form of torture. It hurts in our mind so much that we can physically feel it, like in our stomachs. We lose our appetite and our energy. We force food down our throat. We force ourselves to fight and to simply get out of bed.”  
  
“Didn’t do a very good job of that today, now did I?” Spike spat, more so directed at himself.   
  
“That’s ok. Sometimes it’s next to impossible to. But, in the end, we do. You know why?” Buffy inquired.   
  
Spike offered a stare as his only response.   
  
“Because you have to go on living. It’s the only way to cure this.” She sang again “The pain that you feel, it only can heal by living.” Buffy gave him a soft smile. “And if you ever need to talk, about anything, then I’m here to listen. We’ll get through this together.”  
  
Spike looked down once more. Getting up and continuing to live through this was easier said than done. He hurt all the time, had no energy to even get out of bed, and when he did leave this room he longed to return to the safety of seclusion. This couldn’t go on. He couldn’t heal himself that way. She was right. He didn’t recognize the person that he was now, and he wasn’t entirely sure that he could get back to the way that he used to be. The better version of himself. Instead, he was this watered down sod. His old self surely would have staked this self for simply excessive whining. Yet, he was unwilling to do anything about it. She had seen through his farce. He hadn’t done a great job keeping it up after all. He couldn’t even hide his vulnerabilities anymore. What was left of him?  
  
Buffy could see the inner conflict that was working inside of him and moved herself, so she was sitting next to him now. He had heard her. He had understood her, but she knew all too well, a few words of wisdom doesn’t bring you out of it. She had understood him herself last year. It was part of what had caused her to fall for him. But it had been a long, messy process before she had actually felt like she was living again. And even longer until she accepted him as a worthy part of her new life.  
  
“You will get through this, you know.” Buffy stated factually.   
  
Her statement was met with a grunt.   
  
“It’s true. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Look at all the things you have beaten back in the past. Seriously, Spike. Look at it.” Buffy spoke firmly now, but her patience never faltering in her voice.   
  
Spike looked up at her now.   
  
He was quieter than she was used to. She did have to say that. There was usually more of a back and forth between them. He didn’t have the energy or even the will for that at this moment. It wasn’t that he was clamming up, that wasn’t who he was, but she predicted he was using a different tactic instead. He wasn’t giving much to go on instead. It wasn’t going to work. She was determined to make him hear her, to make him understand that he had people on his side no matter what he thought of himself. Most importantly, for him to see that she didn’t expect him to snap back into being the warrior that he was and that these feelings didn’t make him any less of a warrior either.  
  
“Spike, do I really have to remind you of things you’ve accomplished?”  
  
 _What? Killin’ a bunch of people? That bloke who tied me down for all that time did the reminding job on that…bugger it._    
  
When her words were met by silence she simply crossed her leg over her knee, getting comfortable, and continued. “Fine then. I will. How about when you were still soulless and you took torture for Dawn?”   
  
 _How ‘bout when I promised to protect the bit and I failed, so you had to die?_  
  
“How about when you, as an soulless vampire, were fighting, risking dust, to get your soul for me?” Buffy locked her eyes on him. “Name another vampire that would do that for a human, let alone a Slayer.”  
  
 _Not touchin’ that one, Pet_ …The guilt of even the mere mention of his soul seeking quest, thinking of why he was fighting to get it for her started to chew away at him. He didn’t see that as a good deed. He didn’t see that as a reason for him to get a pat on the back, not with the reasons that had led up to that event. No, that was nothing to be proud of.  
  
“You’ve fought by my side countless times when you didn’t have to. When the chip stopped working you didn’t once try and bite me. You’ve helped save the world, Spike. You’ve helped as much as anyone here. You’re as good as me or anyone else for that matter. You’re a good man, Spike. There were glimmers of that good man that you turned into before you had a soul. Can’t you see how strong you are? How good you are? You chose to be better. You fought to be better. You do every day. You win every day.” Buffy took his hand in hers and gave it a soft squeeze.  
  
Spike had to keep from taking a deep breath in, giving away the emotions that were coming over him. He didn’t allow for the tears that threatened his eyes to fall. It was nice. It was all very nice. It was things that he had always wanted her to say to him, back when he once thought that they could have been true. There was once a time when he had been strong. There was once a time where he maybe still had a hope of being worthy.  He recalled his failures of the moments that she had deemed him to be so commendable in. All of them. The only thing he could perhaps see some merit to was how he had once been a good fighter. He had been one of the best. He had been useful in a fight. He had been a warrior.  
  
He wasn’t anymore. Just look at how near dust his latest patrol trip had ended.  
  
He couldn’t be what he needed to be anymore.   
  
That had been taken away from him.  
  
So, he sat with Buffy in silence.   
  
***************************************************  
  
For the rest of the night she had left him alone. She figured that now it was okay to allow him to have that Spike time to let their conversation sink in. Part of the healing process was being able to have the freedom to collect your thoughts. He had been doing a lot of thinking lately and she knew that she was going to have to step in. The longer he was in bed the harder it was going to be for him to come out; however, after a conversation like that he had earned a little extra time to himself.  
  
Now, it was a new day. It was time to put one foot in front of the other. Part of what had helped her get through her depression was action. It was taking Spike’s own advice: living. He needed to start doing the same. So, when the sun had fallen she went up to his room, dragged him out of bed, and forced him to join the awake.   
  
Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased.   
  
He had grumbled and complained, swore at her in British a bit, but in the end he had wound up downstairs. It seemed harsh to him. She knew that it would. She wasn’t exactly comfortable. She didn’t want to take his choice away from him, but she also had to look out for him, to not let him lay down and drown in his own sorrows. It was going to be a bit of a challenge, but she was determined to find the right balance. Luckily, she knew that she had her friends in her corner to help her with that.   
  
Spike slumped back against the counter of the Hyperion with a look of apathy on his face. He could tell that Buffy knew full well that he’d rather be upstairs. He knew that he could simply turn and walk back up there. He could carry himself up the stairs and shut the door behind him where he really belonged. He wasn’t any good to anyone here anymore. He was more likely to get in the way in this frame of mind and given who he was, the things he had done in the past, the warrior that he no longer was, he shouldn’t be this way. Yeah, he could go back upstairs. Buffy would later come up and give him another pep talk at most, so what was stopping him?  
  
It’d show that something was wrong.  
  
There  _was_  something wrong. He knew it. She knew it. By now everyone knew it. It wasn’t a secret. The thing of it was that kind of action would start to show the extent. The whole world could know something was wrong, but that didn’t mean he had to make it so bloody obvious, out on display. He was set on doing what he could to hold on to his last shreds of dignity.It was a constant show. It was only a matter of time before it grew old. He was weary of feeling this way already and it had only been a few days. Upstairs was safe. Seclusion was safe. It was only then that he could feel what he felt with the sole judgment of himself. He had to wait till the sun was coming up until he could have that again, where he could be safe from everyone’s curious eyes. Until then he had to play it Buffy’s ways, rejoining the living, as if that was going to fix what had happened to him.   
  
That’s how it went for a couple of days. He went with them on the things the gang were doing, but never said much. He didn’t have anything he really wanted to say, but no one questioned his silence. In secret, he suspected they were grateful for it. Most of what he had of conversations with them earlier was dealing out sarcastic remarks and insults anyway. And those still came. He was feeling slightly bitter from having to be up and wandering around town, so it wasn’t hard from him to dish out an insult or two here and there.   
  
Mostly, he thought. He tried to remember what it used to be like before he started feeling like this. He hadn’t always craved going out before all this. He did fancy going to bars and getting drunk. He usually always had gotten at least a kill or two in before the sun came up, but there were nights that he stayed in and watched the telly. He could usually find joy in something that he was doing, be it the kill, being around Buffy, or simply giving someone a hard time.   
  
Right now, the only times when he really felt anything were moment where he could have cried.   
  
Weep like a sod. Be the buggerin’ ponce that he used to be when he was among the living. No one noticed the almost tears. He was good at keeping those to himself. He was good at choking them back, letting it all burn in the back of his throat. He had room at the hotel for that. He’d lose hours of sleep letting it loose. He just had to hold on till then.  
  
He didn’t know if Buffy was clued in to it. She was peppy as usual and her friends went about their normal banter. Dawn here and there gave him a sympathetic look as if she could see what he was feeling. She tended to be in tune that way, but then, she had always been emotionally in tune to others he noticed.   
  
Finally, one night they were down in the Hyperion when some sort of news had come about. Spike had been sitting, dosing off, as he did when there wasn’t anything to do.  Was it normal to feel this weary all the time? He doubted it. There wasn’t anything normal about him anymore. Why did he bother? It was frustrating. Every night wondering if this would finally be the night that he was going to have a break through, feel better, and roll his eyes at his Nancy Boy self. Then, when morning rolled around and he was climbing into bed, seeing that it hadn’t come, that he wasn’t better, he knew that there was always tomorrow. As the days went, as he thought this way and hoped that way, eventually, as he crawled into bed, such hope stopped.

  
“We have a slight problem.” Wesley’s voice came through breaking Spike’s thoughts.   
  
“What is it?” Buffy stood up from where she was sitting, hands on her hips, already prepared to act.   
  
“It seems that Lindsay McDonald has made his way back into town.” Wesley responded with intensity in his voice.   
  
“A slight problem then?” Gunn raised both his eyebrows. “I’d say as problems go that ranks with the big ones.”  
  
“Ah…I think I speak for mostly everyone else in this room when I ask, who’s Lindsay?” Buffy gazed at them completely lost.   
  
“Lindsay was a lawyer that worked at Wolfram & Hart. He and Angel used to square off a lot.” Gunn explained.   
  
“Yes, he was something of their Golden Boy over there…”Wesley started.  
  
“Then Angel cut his hand off.” Gunn filled in.  
  
“Yes…which hardly has anything to with this.” Wesley shot Gunn a look.  
  
“Just thought I’d mention it.” Gunn stated nonchalantly.  
  
“Anyway, Wolfram & Hart invested a lot in Lindsay. He was moving well up his way on the ladder, but he had some moral dilemmas along the way.” Wesley continued.   
  
“They have those over there?” Buffy smirked.   
  
Wesley returned that with a slight smile. “Not often. He did and here and there it caused him to actually work on Angel’s side if they became involved in an evil that Lindsay found even he couldn’t stomach. Unfortunately, in the long run Lindsay stayed with the firm and continued doing their bidding for the sheer selfishness of the extras that came along with a life like that. To make a long story short, Lindsay wound up changing his mind yet again on such a life and sought out Angel’s help once more. He left Wolfram & Hart, turning down a promotion from them. It goes without saying that they were none too pleased about that and the threats he made on his way out. As you know, evil has a long memory.” Wesley finished.   
  
“Okay, so what’s he doing here?” Buffy asked cutting to the chase.   
  
“I don’t know that yet. It couldn’t have something to do with Wolfram & Hart…not after the way he left that place…” Wesley stated, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced himself.  
  
“We can’t know that for a fact though. Things in the world of evil change all the time. Evil are opportunists. If they see the chance to gain something they’ll take someone back in an instant.” Buffy shrugged.  
  
“Perhaps. But, Lindsay was always quite fickle about which side he was one. Good or evil can’t trust him.” Wesley explained.  
  
Buffy shook her head. “Wait. I don’t understand. It sounds like he switched sides when he left Wolfram & Hart. Why is he a threat exactly?”  
  
Wesley shook his head. “Because he’s been so flippant over the years. People change, but Lindsay could never stay changed. When he left town, although Angel buried the hatchet with him, he was warned never to return. The only reason he would do so is he’s breaking the peace agreement they made on his exit.”  
  
“But we don’t know that for sure.” Buffy lifted an eyebrow.   
  
“You’ve got to trust us on this one. We dealt with him for a long time. We know for certain.” Wesley assured her.   
  
“It’s got to be suicide coming back here, not without a sweet deal set up for him at Wolfram & Hart; otherwise, they’ve got to be looking to put him in one of their own personal hell dimensions.” Gunn commented.   
  
“We can’t know anything for sure unless we talk to him.” Buffy decided.   
  
“We’re just going to go up to the guy and talk to him?” Gunn looked at her quizzically.   
  
Buffy smiled. “You’ll find that I have my ways of getting people to talk. What can I say? I’m a people person.”   
  
“Yes, I think I recall some of those tactics. They usually involved your fists, do they not?” Wesley smirked.   
  
“If it gets the job done, don’t fix it if it ain’t broke.” Buffy shrugged.   
  
“Okay, but we have to find him first. We don’t have an exact location, right?” Gunn questioned.   
  
“No, just where he was last seen, which he’s undoubtedly has moved on from by now.” Wesley sighed.  
  
“Well, at least we have a place to start.” Buffy turned and looked towards everyone. “Besides, how hard can it be to spot a man with a missing hand?”  
  
“Oh, no. He got his hand back. Or a hand back. Wolfram & Hart eventually gave him a new functioning one.” Gunn stated casually.   
  
Buffy crinkled her forehead at that one for a moment before moving on. “Okay then.” She turned towards everyone else. “Well, troops. It looks like we’re moving out.”  
  
As everyone started to stand, grabbing weapons, Spike sat still and heaved a sigh. He was not in the mood for this. He hadn’t been in the mood for any of this. He had gone along though, for day after day now, not making a noise or much of a complaint. Couldn’t he have a night off? Couldn’t he have a night to himself? He wasn’t…he just wasn’t doing this.  
  
Buffy noticed his lack of motion. She made her way over to him and sat down beside him. She knew that she didn’t have long. They were heading out, but she’d take the time for him. They had hardly spoken about it, what they had talked about up in his room. Perhaps he needed another little push. “Everything okay?”  
  
“I’m fine.” Spike grumbled  
  
Buffy shook her head. “Yeah, that’s convincing.”  
  
“Look, just not in the mood for this tonight is all.”  
  
“I know it’s tough…”Buffy began.  
  
Spike waved it off. “I know. I know you do. I know you didn’t get nights off just because you wanted ’em when you felt this way, but...”   
  
If he expected her to become frustrated with him it didn’t happen. She simply patted his knee. “You’re right.”  
  
Spike looked up at her in complete surprise.   
  
“I know I could have needed more breaks. If you want to pass on this one, that’s fine. It’s most likely not going to turn into much anyway, so odds are you won’t miss anything. But I should get going now, before this trail gets even colder than it already is.  
  
Spike simply nodded and then cleared his throat, willing the almost awkward feeling he was experiencing away. “Right. Shouldn’t keep you then.”  
  
Buffy gave him a soft smile before standing up. “I’ll see you when I get back.”  
  
He watched as everyone that was going began clearing out. As they left relief began to spread throughout his body.  
  
It wouldn’t last long.  
  
***************************************************  
  
The gang trudged through the door with defeat under their heels. They had been out there for hours trying to locate the ex-lawyer, but they had wound up turning up a whole heap of nothing. Buffy had hoped that if they knew where to start that they might be able to get on his trail, talk to some people, figure out where he was going. It had come apparent quickly that if Lindsay had spoken to anyone in the area they weren’t willing to talk about it. From there, they had tried spots that were likely he would make an appearance at. There was still a whole lot of nothing. Moving on, they went for shot in the dark places, he had to be somewhere in L.A., right? Well, that much was true, but it was too big. There were too many places that he could be. They hadn’t been able to narrow it down between all of them, even when splitting up.  
  
“Well, that turned out to be a waste.” Gunn sighed as he dropped the axe down on the counter in a heap.   
  
“I wish I could put a positive spin on this. But you’re right. That was a waste.” Buffy pouted.   
  
Just as Xander was about to speak, Buffy took a step forward, her eyes falling on the couch, the exact one that she had left Spike on. There he was, right as she left him, sitting there, in the very same position as when they had left him, a blank expression on his face.   
  
Buffy made her way in front of him. “Spike, have you been here the whole time?”  
  
She looked into his face, waiting for an answer. When one didn’t come she bent down over him, giving his face a little wake-up slap. “Spike?”  
  
The minute her hand made contact with him his eyes shot up, his mind ripped away from whatever daydream he had been having, a look of confusion written across his face. “What?”  
  
Buffy stood up, and let out a slightly exasperated sigh. He had told her that he couldn’t go. She had listened to him. What good had it done? He had sat in this very spot, for hours, completely catatonic. Had anything she had done together with him in the last week helped him in the least bit? She turned her back one time and it was as though he had completely regressed. But then, how did she know that she had made any kind of progress with him whatsoever in this “let’s stay active” campaign? He hadn’t complained, but he hadn’t opened up about what he was feeling either? He had been going through the motions, even still, nothing sticking in the long run.   
  
Spike stared up at her, seeing the frustration clear on her face. It was only a matter of time before she got sick of him and what he was feeling. He had been waiting for it. Granted, she had been patient longer than he had expected, but it had come nevertheless. He couldn’t say that he blamed her. The guilt of it weighed down on him. If only he could just feel better then he wouldn’t have to be putting her through this, worrying and upsetting her. God knows it was his fault she was wearing that look on her face right then.  
  
Buffy looked over at the rest of the gang, at a complete loss for what to do. Her eyes fell on Xander, even surprising herself, as she normally would have expected that in something like this she would have sought out Willow. Of course, the Red headed witch hadn’t made it back just yet, probably still working her way back with Kennedy from the chunk of L.A. they had been given to search through. Despite that, Buffy hadn’t noticed in that moment that Willow wasn’t back till she had thought on it. No, she had looked towards Xander, though, she didn’t really know what he could do for her. She didn’t know what any of them could do for her.   
  
Before Xander was able to speak, yet again, Fred wandered into the room and felt the tension at once. “What’s going on? Did you find Lindsay?”  
  
“No.” Buffy spoke sharply. “The whole trip was a waste. And apparently, so was the evening here too?” Fred looked up at her in confusion. “We’re a little concerned about…well…Spike.” Xander explained. “How he seems to have been doing less than nothing this whole time while we were away.”  
  
Fred’s eyes fell on Spike. After the team had left Fred had gone up to her room to do a little bit of her own research. She may work with the team, helping to fight evil, but she was still a scientist after all. Perhaps she should have had the wits about her to stay with Spike? It seemed that he hadn’t moved since they had left.  
  
“Oh…well…I’m sure us all staring at him and talking about him like he’s not part of this conversation isn’t very helpful.” Fred observed.   
  
“Good point. On that note, I’m going to shovel on upstairs and mind my own business.” Xander responded. He wasn’t blatantly ignoring Buffy’s plea for help, but Fred was right. They couldn’t all gather around Spike and smother him with questions. If Buffy needed to talk about this she knew where to find him, but right now wasn’t the time.   
  
It seemed that others took Xander’s cue as Wesley made his way into the office behind the desk and Gunn made his way upstairs towards his own room. Fred took Buffy’s hand, and resolutely took her to the other side of the lobby, for a little chat.  


Fred’s face was filled with compassion, but at the same time Buffy couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched, almost chaperoned. There was a twinge of anger that shot through her, but she knew that it had no right to be there, not after the past mistakes she had already made. It was practically Fred’s first impression of her. Next to that, she was at a loss. She didn’t know what to do right now and that was the very reason why she had turned away from Spike. She felt such frustration when it wasn’t his fault. Why couldn’t she reach him?   
  
Buffy sighed in frustration. “I don’t know what to do. Nothing I do seems to work. It’s like he’s just getting worse. I feel like we’re going in circles. It’s driving me up the wall.”  
  
Fred gave her a sympathetic smile. She didn’t judge her. It wasn’t an easy situation, but it seemed that Buffy had yet to find that balance between action and allowing Spike that downtime he desperately needed. It wasn’t an easy task dealing with someone in his position. Gosh, she remembered when it was her. She had locked herself away in her room. No one had been able to get her out. It was months before they were able to get her downstairs. It had been Angel. Not once had he ever lost patience with her. None of them had. It wasn’t to say that this made Buffy a bad person for becoming exasperated, she was dealing with a lot of things that the others weren’t at the time.

  
“You’re tired. You’ve been out all night. You’ve been helpin’ Spike a lot lately. I don’t mind talkin’ to him. I have before.” Fred offered. “I know he prefers you, but I think it could be useful to remind him that he has other people in his corner too.”  
  
Buffy couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt go through her for her momentary upset with Fred, as if she had been getting on her turf. This was about Spike. It was about helping Spike. That’s all Fred was trying to do, not judge, just help.

  
Buffy paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Okay. But if you need anything or if he needs me I’ll be up in my room. Just come and get me.”  
  
Fred nodded. “I will.”   
  
Fred watched as Buffy made her way upstairs, hesitantly, but still did so regardless. Once she was gone, Fred made her way over to Spike and sat down next to him. “I take it you heard all of that.”  
  
Spike looked towards her with a slight smirk on his face. “Every word. Seems everyone forgets the vampire extras on occasion.”  
  
Fred smiled softly. “I guess you can hang around a vampire for years, but that knowledge comes in waves. It’s hard to remember all the time when you don’t have it yourself.”  
  
“I guess.” Spike shrugged. “So, what? You’re here to remind me that I have people in my corner or some rot like that.”  
  
“I said it to Buffy, didn’t I?” Fred spoke.  
  
Spike gave a nod of his head.  
  
“Then, it must be true. You do.” Fred responded lightly.  
  
“You don’t know me,” was Spike’s only response.   
  
“No, I don’t. Not well anyway, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not someone that you can count on.” Fred explained.   
  
“Oh yeah?” Spike stated cynically.  
  
“Yeah. We’ve already had a few nice times together.” Fred reminded him. “If there’s more you want to talk about, then I’m here for you.”  
  
She did have a point. She had been quite protective of him in the past when Buffy seemed to be in over her head. She had let him in, told him about her personal past, trusted him with things that he was sure she didn’t speak about on a daily basis. “It is. It’s just…”His voice trailed off.  
  
“It’s just what?” Fred inquired patiently, not taking her eyes off him as his averted back towards the ground.  
  
“It’s not easy to talk ‘bout.” Spike explained quietly.  
  
“We don’t have to talk about anything you’re not comfortable getting into. I’m not asking you to tell me what happened. I’m not asking you to tell me anything really. But maybe, if you just opened up a little bit, you’d start to get a little relief.” Fred stated gently.  
  
“Maybe.” Spike responded doubtfully.  
  
Fred gave him another smile. “Give it a try.”  
  
“It’s a lot. Just a lot of different things.” Spike sighed.  
  
“Pick one and start there.” Fred prompted.   
  
Spike didn’t say anything for a long moment. Fred started to wonder if she was going to be able to get him to speak at all, but then he looked up, his gaze falling on her once more.  
  
“Just feel bad all the time. Can’t describe it. Feel tensed up all the time. Like, ready for action. Just... not. Just…it’s like I have no real interest in anything. Don’t care much anymore. This darkness…” Spike shook his head.  
  
“A feeling of hopelessness?”   
  
“Yeah. That. Exactly that. I try to help it. Try to be what I was. Return to my old ways. The way Buffy likes me to be. I fail every time.”   
  
“I don’t think Buffy doesn’t like you right now, Spike. I think she’s worried about you. She doesn’t like to see you hurting, but it’s not that she doesn’t like you. It’s because she likes you that she worries.” Fred explained.  
  
“She doesn’t know what to do. Not that I know what to do. Not that anyone here really knows what to do.” His eyes returned back down to the ground. “Feels like I’m doin’ this to her, you know? I just need to be better. Cause I feel guilty for not being better. On top of other things.”   
  
“What other things?” Fred asked gently.  
  
“Not being what I was. I was always able to just move on, no matter what happened. I was able to press on. Be strong. Fight. What I’m supposed to do. Vampire and all. We’re not made to be weak. Ones that are don’t last very long. That’s what I’ve become. Weak.” He scoffed. “So, it’s that. It’s this loathin’. Now, it’s guilt too. Soddin’ exhaustin’ to be completely honest.”  
  
“Spike, I don’t know exactly what you went through, but I know what I went through. They’re both traumatizing in different ways. I may not be a vampire, but I don’t think it’s about what we are. I think it’s about what’s going on in our lives. I have also been completely out of it for a long time. it took a long time for me to see that I had strength. I didn’t think I had it in me, but when it really came down to it, I did. I needed to so I was able to get through being completely on my own in an apocalypse. And to be able to get through what I went through in Pylea.” She paused. “What I’m getting at is that, you and I, we’re both warriors. It may differ how, but we both are. From one warrior to another, when I came back from Pylea I wasn’t able to just snap back. I wasn’t able to be who I was before what happened to me happened. It took time, but things came back. It will for you too. And no matter how long it takes, you’re not alone in this.”  
  
Spike’s eyes lit up at that, looking at her, a revelation on his face almost.  
  
Fred smiled encouragingly at him. “Warriors have feelings too. Warriors are affected by things too. We couldn’t be warriors if we weren’t. It’s why we are who we are. So, the self-loathing you don’t have to carry on your shoulders anymore, because that vulnerability, it’s part of what makes you good. You know what pain is. It’s no fun. Not at all. But, it’s part of what makes us have a soul. We don’t live for the pain, but we survive in spite of it.” Fred gently took his hand in hers. “And I promise you that things will get better. It’s going to take time, but you will get there. It might take more time than you like, but you have to give yourself that. Believe it or not, you have to feel what you’re feeling to get better. 

I know Buffy is a concern of yours. You think she’s frustrated with you. She’s not. She’s frustrated with herself, because she wants to be able to make you feel better.”

Spike tilted his head at that one.

“She’s frustrated with what happened to you too. Don’t put that on you. It’s not directed at you. I promise.”   
  
Spike nodded his head at her., though non-committally.  
  
Fred gave him a sheepish smile. “Do you feel any better?”  
  
Spike nodded once more. “I do. A bit. Thanks.”  
  
Fred patted him on the back gently before standing up. “You’ll be alright. Promise.”  
  
***************************************************  
  
Relief. He had known it for all of five minutes, but the second his head hit the pillow again his mind went back to obsessing over another angle of the situation at hand. Sure, he got it now a bit more. He didn’t have to feel better right away. Warriors felt things too. Buffy had said as much, reminding him herself that she hadn’t gotten better right away after what happened to her. It hadn’t registered earlier, because he hardly would ever consider putting himself on the same level as her when it came to warrior status. She didn’t have over a hundred years of mass murder under her belt. Neither did Fred for that matter, but something about hearing more than one person go through hard times, but being part of the fight, it helped make it click.  
  
The problem laid in what he had just thought about, however. They didn’t have all those years of mass murder on them. So, sure, he could possibly one day go back to being the way that he once was, but did he want to go back to being that way? There was nothing particularly special about him; there was nothing worth returning back to. Someone like Buffy or Fred, yes, of course knowing that they could eventually feel like themselves would be a good thing. They were good people. That was a form you would want to return to. Not him. No.   
  
As far as he was concerned it didn’t matter form he was in, vampire or human, either phase of himself hadn’t been anything to write home about. He didn’t want to be what he was. He wanted no part of his past, the burning that his soul reminded him of awake or asleep, he didn’t want it. It didn’t matter where he was. It didn’t matter what he was feeling. It didn’t matter what he was doing. He was bad.   
  
That’s why he had been taken in the first place.  
  
And really, if the last year said what it meant to be good, sod that too! At least being evil had at times been fun. Since he’d gotten his soul back, things hadn’t been. Not really. Perhaps for some moments, or brief periods, but then something always came down to crunch it. If it was true what they kept telling him, that with time and hard work things would get back to normal, he wasn’t so sure it would be worth it to even put in that effort. “Normal” totally weren’t that stellar either. Never had been. He was just so tired. So bone tired. He wanted out. He wanted all of this to stop! There had to be a way to end it. Who could help him? His mind latched onto something, and he smiled. The carpenter! He had to go find Xander.

 


	14. Exit Strategy

   
It was strange how much easier it was to be a well-functioning member of the team now, when he had the exit-plan ready. Everything came readily to him. He slept well, got up early, had dinner with the gang and listened to what people were saying without difficulties, while making quick and fun answers. Went about the day’s chores with so much enthusiasm that he could see it both surprised and pleased Buffy. Made jokes and messed around with her, made her feel good and laugh. It was so good to finally be able to be the man she wanted him to be. He decided to make this day all that she had wanted lately. He could now. He had the energy for it, given that it was the last one he had to go through. The weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was free.   


When she walked through the door to go out on a patrol it was the only moment his peace was interrupted. He felt his heart squeeze. There was a downside to everything in life, as well as in death. He would have to leave her. It was the part of this plan that tripped him up. It was the part that filled him with so much pain for this choice that he was making. He didn’t want to never be with her again. He didn’t want to never be able to see her face, hear her speak, go ten rounds with her. It was the only way though. It had to be this way. It was better for her too that this happened. He couldn’t be here anymore. He just…he couldn’t carry on any longer. It was beyond the recent events that had taken place. Perhaps it was what was done to him that had really pushed him in the direction that he needed to go in, the straw that broke the camel’s back. But he had begun hating himself the moment his body was filled with his soul. He couldn’t bear it. For so long, he had to bear it! He had to fight on! There was a bleeding apocalypse that he had to fight for her and he hadn’t even been able to do that in the end! His purpose, the reason that had kept him from going mad was because she needed him. But she didn’t need him, not anymore. He slowed her down. He made her hurt. He was so tired of making her hurt! He was so tired of feeling all of this, the guilt, the evil within, the voices that never seemed to stop screaming in his head, the constant alert mode, just waiting for the next crisis. He needed to finally rest. They both did.  
  
So, when Buffy walked through that door his eyes didn’t leave the sight until she was completely gone. He stood there for a little while after, keeping the image of her in his mind.   
  
Then he went to find Xander.  
  
Quiet. Very quiet. He couldn’t be caught by any of the others still around. Spike didn’t have time for being questioned. What would he say? He was on important business that only Xander could know about? Whoever took notice of him, would figure he had gone completely carrot-top. They thought this anyway. They were right. Even so, he’d be figured out, or, at the very least, they would know that there was something to figure out. He had to press on. He had to be careful about not alerting anyone other than Xander. He was the most logical one to help him in this situation after all.   
  
He found The Boy’s room and knocked on the door gently, waiting to see if he were in there. It was late in the hours; he must be in there. He couldn’t imagine that anyone was downstairs still unless they were all worrying about this Lindsay bloke. From what he had heard the guy didn’t seem like that much of a danger. He sounded like he was more of an annoyance than anything else.

  
The door opened, a tired Xander gazing at him, remaining on crutches. It was moments like these that Spike remembered how difficult it was to be human and try to save the world. It was a gig that was made up of set-backs. Of course, even being a vampire his little extras weren’t made to heal everything it seemed. Though, now, he had a found a way to take care of that problem. He had finally figured it. Truthfully, he had known that this was the answer all along. He had thought about it before, but had never vocalized it out loud. He hadn’t really entertained the idea for much more than a few seconds, but now he knew that it was the right way to deal with all of this. It was the right way for himself, and Buffy especially, to finally be at peace. He just had to get Xander on board. The Carpenter. It made sense.   
  
“Spike?” Xander stared at him in complete confusion. Needless to say, Spike was not the person he figured would be knocking on his door at this hour. So, why was he here now?  
  
“Got a lil proposal for you. Let’s have ourselves a chat.” Spike stated while inviting himself into Xander’s room.  
  
So, specific hotel rooms you were occupying didn’t require an invitation. That was good to know, Xander thought to himself. Not that he would have rejected admittance to the bleach blonde vampire. Maybe his being so pushy was a good sign. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. It all depended on your perspective. Though, Xander had to admit, it was strange for even him to see Spike so quiet and out of it these days. It was weird for everyone. It just didn’t feel like him. Even if he did have a tendency to drive everyone up the wall with all his insults and demanding ways, he was Spike. He was like that weird Uncle that had to be invited over for Thanksgiving every year. You humored him. 

 

This had all the way seemed like a good Spike-day. One so good he hadn’t even been annoying. Which was almost suspicious in itself. So, Xander was very curious as to what he was up to now.  
  
Xander eyed Spike as he made his way over to his wooden dresser, placing his hand on top of it, staring at it contemplatively. What was so fascinating about it, Xander couldn’t quite figure out. And with Spike’s volatile mood lately, he wasn’t sure how to pose the question. How to approach him? He couldn’t just let his tongue fly lose and throw his usual banter his way. The old Spike wouldn’t have minded; he would have shoved it right back. This Spike might very well too, but it wouldn’t be right. He knew what had happened to him, the ordeal he’d been through recently, and though survivors often didn’t want to be treated different, it was common courtesy to try to be a little considerate. Even if Spike most likely would find that to be insulting.  
  
“So, ah, what’s up?” Xander finally spoke out aloud, realizing that Spike wasn’t going to.  
  
Spike calmly looked up at him. Too calmly. Xander felt a chill go through him at the sight. There was something in his eyes. Stark determination. Over what, he couldn’t figure out, but maybe if he was quiet Spike would tell him.  
  
“You work with wood, yeah?” Spike inquired.   
  
Xander gave a slight double take at that question. Not what he expected. He didn’t know what had been expecting, but whatever it was that wasn’t it. “Yeah. I work with wood. I work with steel. I even work with bricks. You’d remember. It was part of the nickname you dubbed me once” he quipped.  
  
“Yeah. Not interested in the lot of that. Wood mostly.” Spike looked back down at the dresser. “Have some right here.”  
  
“Actually, that’s plastic wood grain. Looks like wood though.” Xander shrugged.   
Spike took his hand off it, somewhat disappointed. “Oh. Should have remembered that.” He stated quietly from himself. [  
  
Xander stared at him dumbfounded. “Spike, are you alright?”  
  
Spike’s eyes lifted up towards Xander once more. “Have some of it lyin’ ‘round, yeah?”  
  
“Plastic wood grain?” Xander inquired, his confusion only deepening.   
  
“No, you Nit. Wood.” Spike heaved a sigh.   
  
Xander shook his head unable to piece this together. “Sure you could peel some off a tree if you want it so bad.”   
  
“Branches work.” Spike thought deeply. “Not the point. Not why I’m here.”   
  
“Why are you here? Still, pretty fuzzy on that, gotta say.”   
  
“I want to die, and, if memory serves, you want to help.” Spike stated flatly.   
  
Xander almost jumped back at that. Okay. Woah! Slow down there. That’s why he had come here! Sure, the sudden interest in wood made a lot more sense. But, suicide? And coming here? Coming to him! He did not need to be part of this. He didn’t want to be part of this. Yes, he had once said those words, but that was several years ago, in a different world, to a different Spike. “Spike, go back to bed.”  
  
“Why’s that then? Been waitin’ for this for years haven’t you? Got your chance. Offerin’ it up. Fancy yourself a poke then. See how much I  _pop_.” Spike clapped his hands together at that.   
  
Xander stared at him for a moment before speaking. He needed to put an end to this right now. Why him? He said that awhile back and that was before Spike had a soul. It was when Spike had wanted them all dead. So, one comment a few years ago, under those circumstances, made him the one to go to when he wanted to be put down? That was not fair … Okay, be smart! Think! Logic. Use that. “Buffy.” Xander blurted out before reverting to a more calm voice. “Face it, Spike. She’d never let you go through with this plan. Give it up. Go back to bed. I’ll go with you”  
  
“Buffy’s not here.” Spike stated evenly.   
  
It was scary how even his voice was, how controlled.  
  
  
***************************************************

  
Another night, another patrol, and what had come to be the usual routine, she had company with her. She had to admit, it wasn’t the most ideal of company. Somewhere along the way Wesley had gotten this crazy notion that since Giles was no longer here, he could try his hand at dipping back into his old Watcher days. As she remembered it, things didn’t go over too well the first time. In fact, being a Watcher really wasn’t Wesley’s calling. Right now, he was rambling on about his greatest Angel Investigation triumphs. She had too much on her mind right now to listen. As long as he kept it only to storytelling and didn’t try to take a more active role than that it was fine.  
  
They needed to find Lindsay. They might not have any leads on where he could be, but that didn’t matter. He needed to be found and he needed to be found right away. He was too much of a wild card and Angel’s team, now her team, one big team…they were sure that if he was back it could only mean one thing, vengeance. It would more than likely come in the form of Wolfram  & Hart. It had to be the case. You couldn’t risk coming back into a town that had multiple people out to get you unless you had something very big on your side. Given his past employment, she was betting he had somehow gotten them back.  
  
She had thought about dropping in, seeing Wolfram & Hart for herself, checking in to see if he was there. It wasn’t a good plan though. She’d make herself known. By now they already knew about her, but so far their paths had not needed to cross. She clearly hadn’t killed one of their clients yet. She hadn’t stumbled upon their latest scheme at the moment, assuming they had one with their main target now gone. That hurt too much to think about.   
  
Angel’s demise would always hurt too much to think about. She needed to have a new focus. Lindsay, she could just go back to thinking about him. If he were back in town than it seemed this firm did have its sights set on a new plan. But then, she was jumping to too many conclusions. She was deciding what was taking place without really knowing if Wolfram & Hart had any involvement at all. She needed to play it smarter than that. She needed to simply look for the man. If she found Lindsay then she’d find exactly what problems in this town, known or not, that he had a hand in. She knew she shouldn’t be too eager for Wolfram & Hart to be involved in this. Given the headache they had given everyone over the years, she should cherish the time before she did have to start dealing with them.  
  
Once she did start her dealings with them, they would be destroyed. There was too much evil coming from that firm. Talk about a shift in balance to the side of good if she was able to take them out. It wouldn’t be something she could do with the snap of her fingers. Angels’ team had been at this for years and had never been able to do it. They saved those they could. You did the good that you able to when the opportunity presented itself. It was a very complicated operation. It seemed they felt they controlled the whole world. Unfortunately, in some ways, they did have a hand in manipulating a lot of it. They were cockroaches. If there was one thing that they would be very good at then it was surviving. They’d do that by any means necessary. It didn’t matter who it cost.   
  
They had never met her before. They had never met her team before.   
  
She wasn’t better than Angel. Buffy knew this. She was different. Her team was different. With their combined efforts they were stronger. They could see ways to take down this firm at all kinds of different angles. They would do this. It could take a few years, but she was going in strong with that end goal in mind. They would do this.  
  
But first, she needed to find Lindsay. One problem at a time. It was better to focus on the one that had actually manifested itself at the moment.  
  
As if she could, the moment she decided that her thoughts fell to Spike. Talk about more than one problem there. He was riddled with them. She had tried. She was really trying still, but when things didn’t bounce back right away, what had she done? She had become exasperated with him. She had let him see her frustration. She of all people should know what it was like to feel the way that he did. Yes, it was different. There were certain things that she wasn’t going to pretend that she understood. It’d be insulting if she did. She had never experienced anything like the level of torture that he had undergone. Of course, he hadn’t bounced right back. Of course, he had frozen. How many times had she frozen, lost track of all time, in her own depression? How could she really expect him to behave any differently? She had gotten him involved a bit more than he had been before. Sometimes it had to feel worse before it felt better. It was the healing process. It looked like he was doing better today. There was hope. Perhaps she was not able to give him the help he had needed, but the talk he had had with Fred last night seemed to have done wonders. Some part of her hated that. What was it Fred did that she couldn’t? This stranger, that waltzed in and melted _her_ frozen vampire! It probably wouldn’t last long…  
  
Buffy carried on down the street, stake in her hand, watching as people made their way around the city clueless to what was around them. They couldn’t handle the truth. It took a special type of person to be able to accept the evil that was in this world. It took someone even more special to then be able to dedicate your life to fighting it. She wasn’t giving herself a pat on the back or anything, okay, maybe just a little, but it was her friends too. They were special. They had been able to handle the truth. They had been able to do good with the tragedy that had made them realize the existence of vampires in the first place.  
  
Jesse.  
  
It had been a long time since she had thought of him. She had hardly known him. That’s what had done it though. That’s what really had gotten both Xander and Willow in the game. Sure, they had been attacked themselves, but they had tried to play the usual game she heard after an attack. They had tried to put a wall around the truth, a trick of the light, lies such as those. They couldn’t keep to that, not when the vampires had Jesse, especially not after he had been turned. Once upon a time Xander and Willow had been as in denial about this world as much as the people she was watching were right now. That innocence had been ripped away. This life ripped all innocence away.  
  
Her friends were special. She was special. She was Chosen. She wasn’t the only chosen one anymore, but she was still very much chosen. A girl still destined to take out evil. She had always wanted to be like those clueless people, bar hopping, or finding the best club in town to party at. It had never been her role. She wondered if it ever would. Girls were changing all over the world. Everything was going to change as soon as things became organized. How would it all shift? Would she have a normal life? Or a somewhat normal life? She’d never been clueless though, not like the people she was watching now. She’d always have a duty. Her innocence would always be forever ripped away, but that had happened long ago. You begin to forget to miss it after a while.  
  
She knew it was part of why she had hardened. She couldn’t have an innocent view of the world and expect to do her job well. So, when she envisioned where Spike should be at, when she was at a loss for what to do, someone like Fred had to swoop in. Fred, great with the emotions. Great with the words. She wasn’t a Slayer, but she seemed to constantly be saving the day.  _She_  was supposed to be saving the day when it came to Spike, not some strange southern lady that he had never met before. It should be her. After everything that they had, with all the things they felt, it should be her!  
  
Who was she going to blame this on? Fred. She found several times that she almost had a pang of jealousy before reminding herself that the girl was trying to help. No, not trying. She  _was_  helping. Fred was helping where Buffy was failing. That’s what made her jealous. She wanted to be that empathetic. But, she couldn’t be. It was beyond losing her innocence of the world. Xander and Willow still had plenty of empathy left between the two of them, but she made the hard choices. She made the tough calls. She decided on what action was the right one to take. She hadn’t simply lost her innocence. She had hardened.   
  
How was she ever going to help Spike if hardness was all she had come to know?  
  
***************************************************  
  
Xander sighed. “Okay. But think about it. Why would Buffy not want you doing this?”  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. “Didn’t know I was goin’ to be quizzed.”  
  
“She wouldn’t let you do this. Why?” Xander repeated the question.   
  
“It’s better this way. Can’t pretend that you haven’t wanted to do this for as long as you’ve known me. Don’t see why you’re stallin’. Givin’ you the opportunity you’ve always wanted.” Spike stated evenly.  
  
Xander shifted slightly. “I really don’t want to be a part of it.”  
  
“Figure Buffy would be brassed off ‘bout it, yeah. But it’s not like she’s goin’ to know. I’d be gone. No one left to tell her. Can take comfort in the fact that you’re doin’ her a favor.” Spike responded reasonably.   
  
“Spike, you’re right. For as long as I had known you I’ve wanted to put a stake in your heart,” Xander paused, noting with concern how Spike seemed to perk up with enthusiasm at that statement. “ _but_  then you got a soul. And, I’ll admit, for a while after that I still figured the world wouldn’t miss you if you weren’t in it.”  
  
“So, what’s the problem?” Spike inquired with some impatience.   
  
“The problem is, you moved in with me. And though you’re kind of an annoying roommate, what with the towel leaving all over the bathroom floor and such, I kind of got a glimpse at the other side of things. It was the side that I had never really gotten to know before.” Xander explained.  
  
“Side of what?” Spike asked, not really caring, more so just wanting to get to the point, so they could get on with his reason for being here in the first place.  
  
“The side where you have a soul. The part where it does make a difference. The part where I don’t actually hate you anymore.” Xander stared at him, wondering if this was registering with him at all. The last time Spike had been willing to off himself Willow had been able to keep him away from such actions without a problem. Spike’s attitude had turned right around. He just needed to remember that he had something to live for. The moment he saw Buffy again, Xander figured that would be enough.   
  
Not the case. Spike was in deep this time, deeper than Xander had confidence that he could handle.  
  
Realization did dawn on Spike in that moment, but not the kind that Xander hoped for. Xander couldn’t have spelled it out any clearer for him. He wasn’t on board with this. In fact, the guy didn’t just seem to be not on board with it, but he seemed to be against it all together. He couldn’t let this get in the way! He couldn’t let Xander trip this plan up! That was all it took. One person to know and then he never got his chance again. The news spread like fire and soon everyone would be keeping a close eye on him. He’d never get the chance! He had to get out of here! He had to take care of this now. He didn’t need Xander and his carpentry profession to be what would do the job for him. This place was loaded with weapons of all kinds. In a matter of seconds this could be over with. He just needed to get out of here.   
  
Xander saw the look of panic in Spike’s eyes. “Spike, just relax. Calm down. Grab a smoke or something. There’s no need to do anything crazy-.”  
  
Before Xander could finish, Spike bolted from the room. Xander’s eyes widened, only hesitating for a moment before he took off out of the room and down the hallway after him. It was no use, of course. He could hardly chase him and expect to keep up with the injury that he had going. He didn’t get to heal as fast as vampires and slayers just because he fought the same evil they were fighting. No, humans don’t get benefits from the Powers That Be due to good intentions.   
  
Xander couldn’t see Spike anymore, but he knew exactly where he was headed. He hit the elevator button, luck have it, it was on the same floor as him. In a matter of seconds, he arrived in the lobby seeing Spike as he hurried down the stairs stopping for no one.   
  
Fred and Gunn looked up from behind the desk as Spike made his way towards the weapons chest. The only thing they could figure was that a demon had gotten into the building. Fred was even pleased to see the initiative that Spike was taking to deal with whatever was going on. Then, they both saw Xander.   
  
“Stop him!” Xander yelled out as he made his way from the elevator, trying to get to Spike, knowing that it was impossible for him to do so.  
  
“What’s going on?” Fred stood up immediately, confused.   
  
“He’s trying to kill himself.” Xander yelled.   
  
Fred didn’t have time for shock to run through her. She jumped over the counter, trying to make a grab for Spike’s shirt, hoping to knock him over.   
  
He turned around, with trademark agility, gave her a powerful backhand, and threw her away, with a loud thud resonating as she hit the nearest wall.  
  
Spike reached into the weapons cabinet, sure enough there was an assortment of things that could do him in. Still, all of these things would have required decapitation, and that, that was something he would need help with. A stake to his heart, it was too difficult, he remembered the impossibility of it that first time he’d tried, that he had referenced to Xander. Then he eyed it...  
  
Holy Water.   
  
The room froze as Spike clutched the holy water in his hand. He was surrounded, but he also knew that there was nothing that could be done to stop him. His future was his choice. Finally! How many times had that been taken away from him? How many times had he been at the mercy of other people changing him, telling him what to do, tying him up while doing whatever they damn well pleased. No more! He was in charge here. He was! He was sick and tired of this, the constant battling. Why couldn't they let him go? Xander, what? Suddenly cared? Bollocks! It was all talk. He had been all talk back in the day when he had offered to give him a lending hand. He couldn't really do it. The coward! Fred, she didn't know him. She could relate, fine, but she didn't know him. Why would she care so much to be part of this posse that was surrounding him. Gunn, forget it. They hadn’t spoken two words to each other. So, why did they have to bud in this way? It wasn't their business!  
  
"Okay. Alright. Spike, you just need to calm down. Think about what you're doing..." Xander spoke slowly.   
  
"Have thought 'bout it. You know that." Spike looked at him intensely. "Thought 'bout it and my mind's made up. Don't want to see this then I suggest you leave."  
  
"It's not that we don't want to see it." Xander paused. That didn't come out right. "Okay, we don't want to see it, but it's not for the reasons you think."  
  
"Why? You all care so soddin' much for me? The evil vampire. Bloke who killed how many people? Think it makes a buggerin' difference whether I'm here or not?" Spike glared.   
  
"Were evil." Fred corrected.  
  
Spike lifted an eyebrow. "What?"  
  
"Were evil. You said...you said you are evil. But it's were evil. You're not anymore." Fred corrected him. "You're different. Which means you do make a difference, because you can help people not be killed by the vampires that don’t have a soul. It's all a matter of perspective. Sometimes you just need to change your perspective." Fred rambled.   
  
Spike shook his head, brushing off what she had just said. It didn't work that way. Not for him. What did she know? She hadn't seen what he had done. Xander had hardly seen what he had done. He only had been given a small preview of the lot of what he was capable of before he had been chipped. "Be singin' a different tune if you knew."  
  
"Pretty sure we all have a pretty good idea of what you're capable of Spike when you're, well, the other Spike." Xander stated somewhat confused by his own wording. The way he said it made it sound like Spike had Dissociative Identity Disorder.   
  
“Look man, know you got a rough deal, but this isn’t the way to handle this.” Gunn seemed as though he were ready to charge.   
  
“No?” Spike paused. “Think a stake would be better? Thought that too. No one seems willin’ to give me a lendin’ hand with it though. What’s a bloke to do, yeah?”   
  
“Alright. We’ll do this the hard way then.” Gunn took off towards Spike, making an attempt to grab at his arm to disarm him.   
  
Spike noticed the move, taking hold of Gunn’s wrist, and flipping him so he landed flat on his back on the ground with his left hand clutching his sore right one.  
  
“Any other takers?” Spike looked between Fred and Xander.   
  
Fred eyed him slightly.   
  
Spike picked up on this, knowing exactly what she was thinking. He looked at her somewhat pleadingly. “Don’t do it again.”  
  
“Spike, if you think I’m going to stand by and let you do this without trying to stop you then you’re wrong.” Fred responded with quiet determination, as she scraped herself off the floor, and went at him again.  
  
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Spike spoke.   
  
“And I don’t want you to hurt you.” Fred rebutted. “Let’s just both take a step back. Talk about this.”  
  
“Nothin’ left to talk ‘bout.” Spike simply stated before lifting the holy water to his lips.  
  
Fred took the opportunity, to run into him, causing him to stumble a bit, the bottle almost dropping. Still, after a moment of fumbling with it, he kept it tight in his hand, but Fred persisted. She reached at his hand, trying to pry his fingers open as Xander came up behind him, aiming his crutch to whack him in the back.  
  
In the heat of the moment, reacting quickly, Spike gave Fred a powerful punch right in the stomach with the arm she was clinging to, causing her to lose her footing and hit the ground. He then turned, in a swift motion, grabbing Xander’s crutch before it ever made contact and throwing it off the side. Xander, losing balance, landed on the ground as well.  
  
"Just sod off. This is my choice!" Spike yelled.   
  
It was then that they heard the door to the hotel open. "What choice?" Buffy's voice was heard throughout the room. "Spike, what are you doing?" Buffy's voice was roaring across the room, in a fashion that was impossible to miss.  
  
She flew across the room and, without even stopping the motion, slammed the bottle out of Spike's hand, sending it crashing to the floor. She jumped him down, standing over him, fire practically coming from her eyes. "You have done a lot of stupid stuff before Spike, but this really takes it! How could you do this? What were you thinking?"  
  
Spike looked up at her, defeat seeping in, trying to speak, trying to explain himself, but Buffy didn't give him a chance to. She was raging and she would not be interrupted as it came.  
  
"I risked so much to save you! I worked so hard to nurse you back to health and this is how you repay me! This is the thanks for it! You try to kill yourself! Do you know how selfish that is? Do you get what you could have just done? Well, do you?" Buffy shouted.  
  
Spike opened his mouth slowly, "Buffy...I-"  
  
Buffy looked at him with tears streaking down her face. "How could you do this to me Spike? How could you just quit and leave me? I thought that you were better than sinking to this level of cowardice. Giving up, and letting others do the fighting for you. Or sooner, against you." She gave the room at large and it's battered occupants a telling sweep with her eyes, before focusing their fire sharply back at him again.   
  
Spike stared up at her, tears threatening his own features, fighting to keep them back. He couldn't answer. He didn't have anything to say. She wouldn't listen. She had made up her mind on all of this. He had failed her. By trying to help her, free her, he had failed her. He couldn't do anything right it seemed. He couldn't get better at the rate she wanted, so when he tried to take himself out of the equation, cease her worries, she tore into him for that too. He was nothing but pain for her. Truthfully, she didn't understand his own pain. She thought she did, because she had been in the dark and gloomy places, but who was she kidding? It wasn't the same thing. It wasn't close to the same thing! What did it matter? What he felt...what he needed....any of it. What did it matter? No matter which way he looked at it, tried or didn't, he was in the way. He was pain. He needed to end that. Somehow, someway, he needed to end all of this.  
  
It was then that Wesley made his way inside. “Buffy, you ran off so fast I can hardly keep up. What are we doing back here-?” Wesley’s voice cut off as he came to stand next to the Blonde Slayer, taking in the scene for himself. “What happened?” It was then that he saw Fred pulling herself up, holding her stomach, and with a big purplish bruise starting to form on her cheek. Quickly, he rushed to her side. “Fred? Are you alright? Was there a demon?"  
  
Fred nodded her head. “I’m fine, Wesley I’m not the one we need to be worried about.” Her eyes hit Spike, allowing Wesley to fully make the connection of what had really occurred.  
  
"Ah, what's going on?" Willow's concerned voice caught everyone's attention from the doorway, Kennedy by her side, the two of them dressed in a way that indicated a much more romantic date.  
  
Buffy wiped her eyes. "Spike just tried to kill himself. Can you believe that?"  
  
Willow's eyes widened as her attention shifted onto Spike. "What?"   
  
"Yup. And you know what, I’ve been pretty patient with him overall, but right now, I just can’t. I just. I can't handle this right now. Willow can you just take him upstairs and keep an eye on him. Don't let him out of your sight. If he tries anything. I don't know. Do a spell or something." Buffy waved it off with her hand.  
  
Willow, still trying to process the information that she had received, walked to Spike’s side as he collected himself off the ground. He gazed at Buffy one last time, hoping that she’d have a change of heart, hoping that she’d really see him in this moment. Instead, she looked away, unable to relate, unable to try. Spike turned and walked off with Willow back towards his room.  
  
Lorne watched the situation from afar. It was a mess. Yet, he felt rather satisfied with his own handling of the situation. it had been the very right thing to do, in this all wrong situation, to not jump into the fray, but rather call Buffy about what was going down, and tell her to get home right away.  
***************************************************  
  
Back in his room. Away from the glares and stares. Back to safety. No, that was a stretch. He couldn’t really be safe. He couldn’t ever be safe, not with the thoughts that was weighing him down. The chaos and screams in his mind never ending and now Buffy was in there too. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to beg her to understand. He didn’t feel this way on purpose. He’d change it if he had control. He had tried! He had been doing as she had asked! Nothing worked. Now, he didn’t have anything left in him.  
  
“Spike, how about you try lying down?” Willow suggested as they stood in the middle of his hotel room.  
  
“What? On suicide watch now?” Spike spat bitterly.  
  
Willow gave him a sympathetic smile.  
Spike stood, at one of the edges of his bed. Fine then. Let her watch. Let her stare. Let her stand there uncomfortable and unsure of what to do with herself. She wanted to be here then that was her cross to bear. But he was not laying down in bed like an infirm patient.  
  
The room was silent. Only the noise of nothingness filled their ears. The event which had occurred replayed in their heads, biting words and horrific actions taking over their minds.   
  
His actions hadn’t been filled with insidious intentions. Despair, trauma, regret, and defeat. The dark corners of his mind no longer being off to a side, but rather, spreading like a disease.   
  
Light hidden.   
  
Light gone out.   
  
Light to never take focus again.  
  
“Aren’t you goin’ to ask me why I did it?” Spike spoke.  
  
“No.” Willow replied simply.  
  
“Not interested then? Don’t see why you bother with babysittin’ if that’s the case.” Spike snorted.  
  
“That isn’t it. I already know why you tried.” Willow stated calmly.  
  
Spike looked at her with disbelief. “Oh, you know. You understand. That right? Everyone knows. Everyone understands. They can relate, because who hasn’t been in a buggerin’ depression? It’s called existin’, right?” He glared at her. “So, what do you understand exactly? What do you think you know? That I’m a coward, maybe? That I’m weak? Or selfish? Tell me. What do you understand? Enlighten me.”  
  
Willow looked at him with sadness. “Is that what you think?”  
  
“Isn’t it what everyone is thinkin’?” Spike scoffed.  
  
Willow didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t stupid. In fact, from what she had witnessed of Buffy’s mood, she could very well have said just that. He felt looked down on. He looked down on himself. Everyone understood. No, everyone thought they understood. Everyone had dark periods, but that didn’t mean they all understood. Not everyone reached this level of darkness, but Willow had. She wasn’t going to debate with him that people passed judgment. It had already happened to him minutes after the incident, but right now she didn’t need him to feel better about what everyone else was thinking. Spike didn’t care what everyone else was thinking. It was what he was thinking, that’s what mattered. It was his thoughts, along with the trauma that he had been dealt, that had driven him to this state of mind. This hopelessness.   
  
Willow moved over, sitting down on the bed, right next to where he was standing, waiting to see if he’d react to the lower position that she had taken. If he noticed, he didn’t act like it. “You’re asking me. What I think?”  
  
“Why not? Everyone else has had somethin’ to say.”   
  
“But, you’re asking the girl who almost ended the world what she understands?” Willow clarified.  
  
Spike did a double take at that.  
  
Willow gave him a knowing smile. The light bulb had gone off. She didn’t expect for him to remember in this moment. First, he had enough things on his mind already to then remember everyone else’s pain and darker moments. Second, he hadn’t exactly been in town for when she had almost destroyed the world and everyone in it. That alone made it easier to forget. If he had seen it she doubted it wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. “Kind of a version of suicide, with a side order of mass murder.” Willow explained none too proudly.  
  
It wasn’t easy to talk about. It was something she had to talk a lot about over the summer when she had been learning to get a handle on her powers, how to control it without it controlling her, but for a while there it still had a way of taking over. Such darkness, and after losing Tara, she hadn’t had the will to control it. She too was worn out, defeated, and all around pissed off. "I felt the world had become such a horrible place that I wanted to save us all, by putting us out of our misery. I chose death as my own personal gift to humanity."  
  
"It’s still different then.” Spike responded.  
  
“Yeah. In a way it is. I’m not going to belittle what you went through. Aside from the soul, you went through something very bad, that’s all yours, back there in Sunnydale now. But, regardless of the big differences in our stories, I still tried wiping out the world. And don’t you think that there was some kind of suicidal intent there? I knew it would end me. I wanted that. I didn’t value any of the lives here.” Willow pressed gently. “I thought everyone would be better off for it. But they weren’t.”  
  
Spike sighed. “I don’t have it in me. To keep goin’. So, if this is goin’ to turn into some rousin’ motivational speech, don’t want to hear it.” He shook his head. “And your story is going nowhere in proving your claim of knowing anything about me. I had no noble intentions of saving the world. Just wanted out of it. Not strong enough for it. Clearly.”  
  
“You’re not strong because of what you tried to do?” Willow questioned.  
  
“Like Buffy said, it’s a coward’s way out.” Spike answered with sharpness.   
  
 _A coward’s way out, but one you’re still not givin’ up on, Mate. Was never all that strong anyway. This proves it then. Should die the way I am. Weak._    
  
“And my trying to destroy the world isn’t? It’s better? A less terrible offense? I tried to take how many lives? I had a darkness in me that I, in a way, invited in. I didn’t take precaution to learn how to control it and look what happened. I spun out of control when my life felt like it was coming to an end.” Willow fixed her gaze on him, and though he wouldn’t look directly at her, she didn’t take her eyes off of him. She needed to get through to him. She needed to undo the damage she knew had been created downstairs, the rejection that he had received.   
  
“If you ask Buffy I wasn’t doin’ much in the way of valuin’ other people either.” Spike pointed out.  
  
“Should you be?” Willow inquired, though it was clear that she already had a formulated opinion.  
  
Spike allowed himself to look her way now, not understanding what she was driving at.  
  
“Why should you be putting other people’s feelings and needs ahead of your own right now? Is that your responsibility? To think about how other people are going to feel. Don’t you think that you should be trying to take care of yourself? I’m not saying that getting all holy water happy is the right way to handle this. It’s not. It’s giving up. I’m not saying that to put you down or make you feel bad. It’s a way out. You were in desperate need for a way out for probably a lot of reasons that you’re not talking about. Oh sure, we can all guess what they are, but you’re not exactly Mr. Communication Skills lately. I don’t think anyone should expect you to be.” Willow paused briefly. “It’s not selfish. You shouldn’t be worried about how Buffy is feeling.”  
  
“Part of why I did it.” Spike admitted.  
  
“For Buffy?” Willow looked at him suddenly confused. She hadn’t expected that one. Why would he think that his being dust would make Buffy feel better? She had already lost someone she was close to not that long ago, losing Spike, she didn’t really know that Buffy would be able to handle that. In fact, losing someone already or not, Willow still wasn’t sure how well Buffy would be with bouncing back from such a loss. She cared about Spike. She had for a while now.  
  
“She’d be better off. Wouldn’t have to worry ‘bout me. It’s a lot of things. Like you said. A lot of things made me make this decision. But, just figured, yeah, she’d try and stop me. Be brassed off ‘bout the thought of it, but in the long run, could get on with her life. Wouldn’t be havin’ me to hold her back.” Spike looked away. “Nothin’ here that’s worth savin’.”  
  
Now, it made sense. Willow was fairly certain that Buffy’s anger and rejection downstairs hadn’t done much in the way of helping Spike’s thinking on that one. “Spike, I know we’re not going to fix this in one night. I know you’re going to go to bed feeling pretty down on yourself. I know you probably still have plans to figure out a way to do what you’re trying to do. But...you can do good things now. In fact, before you were souled you were doing good things. You killed demons. You were helping to save lives. You’re an asset. You can still help to save lives. I think anyone with intentions like those is worth saving.”  
  
Spike continued to look down towards the ground. He was tired of talking. He didn’t have anything more to say on the matter. He felt what he felt and with Buffy’s words echoing in his mind he only was reassured more than ever that it was true. He didn’t think about anyone but himself. Hadn’t that been a pattern since he had been turned? He wasn’t thinking about the victims when he took their lives. He was selfish. He went after what he wanted. He did what he wanted. He wasn’t worth much. If only he had been able to put on a better act around Buffy, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t pretend to love what he had loved before. He couldn’t pretend that he wanted to get out of bed in the morning. He couldn’t pretend that he wanted to hunt vampires and that he wanted to train with her. He couldn’t pretend that anything mattered to him at this point. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t think and feel the things that he was thinking and feeling. Selfishly, he just couldn’t pretend.   
  
Her assessment of him brought to new light qualities of himself that he hadn’t thought of before. It added to the notion of why things needed to come to an end. The world didn’t have a place for a bloke like him and he didn’t have any more energy left for the world.  
  
He was done.  
******************************************************************  
  
Buffy stood looking down at the mess that had been made of the weapon’s cabinet. She didn’t mind the mess itself, but still she couldn’t take her eyes off it. She was fuming, practically shaking with anger and fear. How could he? Really? How could he? He was better than that! He had always been so considerate of her in the past year, always putting her first, and it wasn’t to say that that’s what he should be doing right now, but this was a far cry from it. It was too far of a cry from that. It was the polar opposite of that. It was giving up and leaving her to mourn for him, for Dawn to mourn for him! There were other people involved in this besides him. He could fight harder, longer, to try to get better. It hadn’t been  _that_  long and he was already calling it quits. She wasn’t going to stand for this!  
  
“Buffy…”Xander spoke up.  
  
Buffy turned towards him. “What?”  
  
“I know you’re upset,” Xander began.  
  
She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like where this was going.  
  
“Of course, I’m upset.” Buffy answered sharply.   
  
Xander paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I get that you reacted in the heat of the moment-“  
  
“Excuse me?” Buffy cut him off.  
  
Okay, so apparently he still hadn’t chosen the right words. “Come on, Buffy. You have to admit that you jumped all over him.”  
  
“Are you being serious right now? He tried to kill himself. Yes, I’m going to react. Yes, I’m going to jump all over him. What he did was incredibly selfish!” Buffy’s voice had risen.  
  
“What he did, was snap.” Xander clarified.  
  
Buffy was completely taken aback by his words. She tried to form words of her own, but she didn’t know quite how to respond.  
  
“He’s right…” Fred’s soft voice spoke up. She took a step forward from the counter she stood by. “Spike’s not in his right mind.”  
  
“I’m aware of that.” Buffy sighed. “I know he’s not himself, but this is beyond not being himself.”  
  
“Actually, the depression itself would be what’s beyond him not being himself. Trying to commit suicide is his mind practically collapsing. He’s traumatized. You know, I worked alongside Angel for a few years. I knew him very well. He had a soul for a much longer time than Spike and still hurt over the pain that he had caused. Spike just got his soul. We can’t forget that that pain added onto the trauma he received just before coming here would drive anyone over the edge.” Fred pointed out.  
  
“I think dealing with one of those things alone would be enough to drive anyone over the edge.” Xander stated.  
  
“Are you two honestly trying to tell me that his behavior was excusable?” Buffy stared at both Fred and Xander in disbelief.   
  
“Yes.” Xander answered simply.  
  
Buffy’s eyes widened hearing his words. You could have knocked her over with a feather in that moment.  
  
“And what do you think Buffy? We should all be mad at him? Make him feel really bad about himself? That’s not going to bring him back from what he’s feeling. That’ll only make it worse.” Xander explained heatedly.  
  
“He needs to understand that what he did was wrong.” Buffy couldn’t believe her ears. Spike had just tried to kill himself, not to mention that he had knocked them all down, roughing them up in the process. The last thing she would have thought was that they would have been coming to his defense over his actions. If anything she thought she was going to have to try and talk them into forgiving Spike, not that it would be the other way around!  
  
“But it’s not about right or wrong. You can’t make him feel like he was wrong. He needs to deal with the root of the problem. He needs to feel like he has support. Anything else just makes him feel isolated, alone. Down on himself. He shouldn’t be worried about other people judging him. People’s support is what helps a person going through this heal. I mean sure, it’s not all of it, and it takes a long time. But support helps it to more likely eventually happen.” Fred continued to clarify.   
  
“No one is judging him. He should know that by now.” Buffy shook her head.  
  
“He doesn’t.” Fred answered. “In fact, he basically said the very opposite thing to me last night. He’s anything but selfish. Part of what he’s worried about is how his trauma is affecting you.” Fred gently pointed out. “I didn’t want to say anything. He was talking to me and I don’t want to break his trust, but now I’m starting to think that you should know.”  
  
“Trying to kill himself, how was that going to help me?” Buffy sounded exasperated. “That’s him thinking about him.”  
  
“Not exactly. It could be him thinking it’d be easier for you if he wasn’t here. Easier if you didn’t have to keep putting up effort and making sacrifices for him. Sure, he wouldn’t have to deal with what he’s feeling anymore and it’d benefit him, but if what Fred says is true… I have no reason to think it’s not. Then, this choice didn’t only center around what would work best for him. Though, now it might.” Xander rolled his eyes.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Look, I’m not trying to judge you. Something bad happened and you didn’t handle it well. It’s not easy to walk right in on someone that you care about who is getting ready to end their existence. I get that. People can overreact, but you’ve got to calm down and think. Spike is safe right now. So, now that you’re calm, and you think about why he acted the way that he did, maybe realize that saying the things that you said to him is going to stick in his mind. It’s not going to help him stay away from the holy water. It might make him run a little bit faster towards it now.” Xander paused. “If he felt alone and a burden before, he’s really going to feel that way now.”   
  
Fred gave Buffy a sad smile. “Suicide isn’t a selfish act, Buffy. It’s a shattered soul in need of help. And that’s what we do here at Angel Investigations. We help the helpless.”   
  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy made her way up the stairs with the same notion in her head that had been there since she had first rescued Spike; she didn’t have enough experience with caring for someone who could hardly care for themselves. To think, she had thought it was going to be easier when he could bathe by himself, feed himself, start walking on his own. Somehow, it had become harder. She hadn’t thought about emotional trauma. She hadn’t known that depression would set in. There was so much she had overlooked. She was so fixated on what had been done to him she hadn’t thought about how he had already been hurting before Wood had taken him. He didn’t act like he was most of the time. There was so much he kept inside and it was hard to know that, because he always seemed to be so open with her on what he felt. Now it turned out that he didn’t relay probably even a fourth of what he was really feeling most of the time onto her. When it came to matters of the heart in concern to her, yes, he was an open book. He had been ever since he had first admitted that he was in love with her, but other than that, the other emotions that he had, they were locked away more than she had known. Of course, he had gone mad! Of course, he had tried to take his own life!  
  
 _Great job, Buffy. Way to make him feel safe and supported. Scream at the traumatized vampire._    
  
 _He hadn’t been selfish. I had._  
  
She thought that Spike was only looking at himself, how things were affecting him, but oh no, that had been her. She was only looking at how she would have felt if he had dusted. It would have killed her inside. That wasn’t an excuse to say the hurtful things that she had said to him. She knew better now. She wished she had known better, at least, right after she had blown up at him. He had had all the longer to really let her words seep in, shattering his poor broken soul even further. God, she had been so much calmer about this when Jonathan had tried to take his own life. Granted, she had thought he was going to commit mass murder at the time. It was easier though when it was someone you didn’t care about. The emotions weren’t there as much to react so strongly. You didn’t feel the pain.   
  
All she had been able to think at the time of stopping Spike was how dare he do this? How dare he hurt her friends just so he could hurt himself, and hurt her! She knew it had been a human reaction, but still she felt badly for it. It wasn’t what he needed. Fred and Xander had both been on the receiving end of Spike getting too rough and they didn’t bat an eye over it. They had known. They had understood. And when did Xander get so smart about people? She figured he had a lot of practice over the years to become so insightful, watching everything his own friends had gone through. He was the one who had saved the world once with his mouth. Now, he was becoming a big reason that she was saving Spike. Him and Fred both. Experience went a long way, she just wished dealing with the emotional end of things would have been something that could have rubbed off on her eventually. The crosses a slayer had to bear.   
  
When she reached the door to his room she made her way inside, surprised to find that Willow and Spike were sitting next to each other. They didn’t seem to be talking, but she wondered if Willow had been able to get anything out of Spike. Spike, randomly, over the years spilled his guts to Willow. Maybe it was a personality thing. He seemed to do the same with Fred. The two of them had their similarities, no question there. She just hoped that Spike would start talking to her too. There was a lot she seemed to be missing, feelings that he had, and she couldn’t help him if he didn’t talk to her.   
  
 _Good luck with him talking to you now._  
  
“Hey.” She said softly.   
  
Only Willow looked up.   
  
“I can take it from here.” Buffy stated quietly.  
  
Willow nodded and stood up, but first she gestured for Buffy to follow her into the hallway.   
  
Once they were out there, Buffy looked at Willow calmly. “If you’re going to lecture me, don’t. I already got it from Xander and Fred.”  
  
Willow shook her head. “I’m not here to lecture you, Buffy. Well, not exactly.”  
  
Buffy stiffened at her words a bit. “I know I didn’t handle it right.”  
  
“I understand. I do. I don’t think many people would in that moment, but now that it’s passed, he needs you to be there for him. He’s really down on himself. You should hear some of the things he says about himself. He’s in a lot of pain.” Willow expressed with concern.  
  
“I know.” Buffy frowned. “I feel really bad and I’m going to apologize to him. I don’t know how much good it will do after the way I acted, but I’m going to try.”  
  
“He really needs to know that you’re there for him. That you’re not judging him. That you understand.” Willow explained.   
  
“I know. I do. I know I didn’t know before, but I do now. I wish I could get a re-do, take it back, but I can’t. I just have to hope that it’s not too late to work past the freak out that I had.” Buffy sighed.   
  
“Just be there for him. It goes a long way.” Willow gave her a soft smile.   
  
Buffy nodded and made her way back into the hotel room. Spike was exactly the way that she had left him.  
  
“Spike, can we talk?” She asked quietly.  
  
Spike shrugged.  
  
Buffy made her way over to where he sat, taking the seat by him that Willow had occupied a moment before. “I didn’t handle what happened downstairs right. I got scared and pretty much everything I said downstairs I wish I could take back. I’m so sorry, Spike.”

  
He didn’t respond.   
  
“I understand if you’re not ready to talk to me. I really do. Not just because of the way that I acted, but because I’m sure that you’re feeling a lot of things.” Buffy paused. “I’m going to do my best to relate to you better on this. I kept trying to fix it. I’m always doing that. I’m always trying to think up ways to fix things. If I just got you back into the swing of things your mind would have something to do and you’d feel better. But, that’s not how it works. Not completely. It’s part of it, but I can’t expect you to take on everything that you use to do right off. I can’t expect you to snap out of it and feel better. And I don’t.”  
  
Spike looked towards her for a split second with cynicism before his eyes fell back towards the floor.  
  
“I don’t expect you to believe me. I wish that you would, but I’ve been sending you mixed messages. I say one thing and then I get overwhelmed and act another way. Like I did last night. Like I did just now. I’m not good at the emotional stuff. You know I’m not, but it’s not that I don’t care. It’s not that I think any less of you. It’s not that I feel like you’re burdening me. It’s not any of those things. I just want to fix things. I want to do things to fix things. I can’t do anything to fix this and I feel so helpless.” Now, it was Buffy’s turn to look down towards the ground. “I want to help you and I don’t want my wanting to help you to make you feel like you’re doing something wrong, because you’re not meeting whatever expectations that you think I have. Or that I’ve accidentally made you think I have.”  
  
Buffy turned toward him, gently taking his hand in hers. “It’s going to take time, but I’m going to figure out how to do this. I’m here for you. I don’t think you’re selfish. I don’t think you owe me anything. I didn’t mean that, when I said it, it didn’t come out right. I was scared. Please believe me, I’m here for you.”  
  
He looked up at her, clearly listening, but still not much responsive. She reached out her hand, and took to stroking his hair again, like she had done so much when he had been badly injured. "I love you." His face lit up in a warm, though still very sore, smile. "No, you don't. But thanks for saying it".


	15. Into the Light

The water swirled down the drain as though it were dancing. It was able to get out, escape, though maybe it wasn’t by its’ own choice. The handle was turned and out it came, downward to meet its’ fate. So, maybe it wasn’t so much dancing as it was trying to hang on for dear life. Spike understood that feeling. It was, after all, what he was doing too.

  
He didn’t need to shower. It was the only way to get five minutes peace. They were constantly watching him. Not all together. That’d be ridiculous, even for them. One at a time, it seemed. Someone was always right there with him and if he even so much as looked at one of the few instruments that could hurt him, they were prepared to call Buffy over in a moment’s notice. There was nothing that could be done for now. He had missed the window of opportunity. Now, all that was left for him was the heaviness on his chest that reminded him of what an empty shell he truly was. The weight was back. He had failed to escape it.

  
There were moments where he felt like he had never escaped Wood. But then, that would be accurate. He didn’t escape Wood. He had been saved. That wasn’t the point.   
The point was, whether he was down in the initiative or not, he was imprisoned. Locked in his own mind. And locked into the expectations of others. He was suffocating. Not just because of this suicide watch that they had put him on. 

  
“Hey, Spike. You okay in there?” Xander called from outside the door.

  
Ah, seriously? He was fairly certain there were mental institutions that had lighter security than this. And wouldn’t that be where he’d have been placed right now if he wasn’t a vampire? Maybe he needed that. He knew the way he felt wasn’t right. He wanted to not feel this way, but there was nothing to be done. 

  
“Spike?” Xander’s voice went up in concern.

  
“Bloody hell.” Spike swore under his breath. “I’m fine!”

  
Sure, he was fine. That’s why it had taken all of his strength just to be able to say that loud enough for Xander to hear it from out in the hallway. He didn’t want to be asked questions. He didn’t want anything directed at him. It’d be better if he were left alone. Aside from what he would do if he were ever left alone. If, for some reason, he wasn’t able to finish himself off when alone next time, he could at least process his thoughts. It didn’t help, but he carried the illusion around with him that maybe if he were able to think his thoughts through, then he’d finally see things in a way that he hadn’t seen them before. It didn’t matter that he knew that wouldn’t be the case. He wanted the chance anyway. If he wasn’t going to be able to convince himself that his unlife could possibly be good again, he could at least be granted the right to mope over how bad it had become. He didn’t want to do that in front of other people after all. It didn’t matter how many of them had seen him in the dark already. He didn’t want them to see it anyway. Besides, he had never been a fan of being crowded.

  
His arms felt weak. They were kind of sore, particularly around the elbows. He didn’t know why he kept thinking of it. He felt it when he moved, so that could have been reason enough for it. It was stuck in his mind. It was such a contrast from the way that he used to feel. He felt weak. He felt as though he were dying. He had only ever died once. He never had forgotten, that sensation as life drained from him. The problem was, normally, it got nice and peaceful after the pain had passed. Each night, every moment that passed by, it wasn’t a moment closer to that peace. It was always the moments leading up. It was always him screaming inside, not being able to breathe, faint with agony, but knowing that the final dusting was a privilege he was not gonna be granted any time soon, and that no one were coming to his rescue.

  
Funny that. They were trying to come to his rescue. He knew the lot of them were, which he couldn’t entirely figure. Even so, it still felt like no one heard him screaming. He figured it was because they couldn’t resolve it. He didn’t expect them to, and yet, part of him wished that some of their words had reached him. He wished they had some profound perspective that his mind had been too cloudy to have seen. There was always a new spin on everything that came his way. His mind never tired of this new exercise that it had taken up and reminded him so much of when he was human. Alive. No purpose. Self-loathing. He had been too crippled to have any kind of potential back then. A sad sap tripping all over his words. What was he now? Was he really any better than that? His body was too weak to support the weight that his soul and mind were carrying and it really was a true wonder that he could bring himself to do anything but curl into himself on his bed. He may not have always felt this low, but all the reasons why he should have in the past were still there. The difference was that he finally realized them now. He realized them and he had added to them.

  
Spike remained under the water for a minute more, but the sound of Xander shuffling outside of the door reached his ears. It wasn’t impatience, not completely. It was enough to let him know that if he didn’t get a move on, Xander would be knocking at the door again, wondering if he had somehow programmed the shower to shoot out holy water. It was a good idea. Too bad Spike wasn’t handy in such a way. 

  
With the sound of the shower going off, he reached for a towel and stood in front of the mirror as he wrapped it around himself. He stared into the glass as though he could see himself. He pictured the bags under his eyes; the frailness of his body that he knew wasn’t as bad as he pictured it being. He looked in the mirror and he saw nothing. It was an accurate and appropriate reflection, really.

  
Once he had dried off and dressed he made his way to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Xander stood on the other side with an unreadable expression. Spike didn’t make a move past him. He almost wondered if Xander was going to pat him down to make sure that he hadn’t managed to bottle up some of that imaginary shower holy water that he seemed to believe was in there.

  
Xander didn’t do this though, he stepped aside, and Spike walked past him, down through the hallway, with Xander following.

  
“How do you feel?” Xander asked.   


“Nauseous.” Spike responded honestly. What was the point in pretending anymore? They all knew what he wanted to do. They knew how badly he wanted it. He found that he didn’t really care that they knew anymore. He just cared that they wouldn’t leave him alone because of it.

  
Xander was a bit surprised by the bluntness of his answer. He figured he’d be told to sod off. If Spike hadn’t already tried to meet his dusty end, Xander would have found this to be grounds for even deeper concern. It couldn’t go much deeper than it already was. 

  
“Any thoughts in particular you want to share that’s making you feel that?” Xander inquired. 

  
Spike looked up at him curiously. “Why are you on suicide watch when you’re on crutches? Don’t they know that I could push right past you? Get what I want easily with you standing on guard?”

  
Xander thought about that for a second before answering. “I guess that’s true. Except for the part where you get what you want. All I have to do is call for Buffy and she’ll come running. All you need is to have eyes on you. And if Buffy’s out, well, we’ve got a witch who has taken up residence here. She’s more than enough to keep you safe.”

  
Spike nodded. It was true. He had been able to get past Xander before, but with Buffy coming in that was the end of it. She was only a floor apart. Trapped all over again. A prison of a different sort. At least this one had nicer bars.

  
“What happened to you?” Xander asked suddenly, not expecting the question to come out of his mouth. The look on his face giving away that it had been an accident. 

  
Spike gazed at him for a moment. Now it was his turn to wear an expressionless face.

 

“You already know that.” 

  
Xander paused. “I know you were hurt.”  


Spike lifted an eyebrow. “That get you off then? You want the gory details. Fulfill whatever fantasy that you have left over from when I was evil?”

  
“No!” Xander spoke quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I never wanted you tortured, Spike. Even when you were evil. I had my limits.” Hadn’t they covered this already when he tried to get him to do the dirty deed of dusting him? Spike was really hanging onto this idea that Xander had some dark desire to do him in. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about that…

  
“That’s the difference, innit?” Spike shrugged. “Between a real white hat and rouge one. Boundaries.”

  
“It’s the difference between good and evil.” Xander answered simply.

  
“Maybe.” Spike shrugged. “Then again. Maybe not.”

  
“What does that mean?” Xander looked at him confused.

  
Spike didn’t respond this time.

  
***************************************************  
  
“I can’t get a good read on him.” Xander reported while putting the weapon’s chest back together in the Hyperion. 

  
“What do you mean?” Fred asked as she sat behind the counter watching Xander do his work. She did have to admit, it came in handy having a Carpenter around.

  
“Eerie. That’s the word.” Xander clarified. 

  
“Eerie?” Buffy sat up on the counter near Fred. 

  
Buffy needed to be down here. She couldn’t be up there, in his room right now, not after their last encounter. Who was she kidding? It had been their last several encounters. She found that everything she did now worried her, was too heavy for him to handle, or was too insensitive. She had tried though. Tried her darnest to get through to him, and make him see how much she cared, and how dearly she wanted to be there for him. Spike hadn’t exactly been accepting of it, well, in the believing it sort of sense. Appreciation, yes, but he seemed to think it was out of some kind of pity. She was going to have to have another conversation with him about this. She was going to have to make it very clear that she meant exactly what she said, about her feelings for him. She didn’t blame him for questioning it. Her own words sticking out in mind as she thought on this.  _You’re beneath me. You’re just convenient. I’m using you._  I love you was a big jump from those selected statements. She was going to have to prove it to him. Hopefully, this would at least be something that she could do right.  
  
Xander sighed. “It’s not anything specific he’s saying, but it’s the way he’s saying it. Or, actually, it is specific things he’s saying, thinking on it.”

  
“Like what?” Fred asked curiously.

  
“Well, there’s the whole him making with the answers to your questions.” Xander recalled. “He doesn’t avoid things as much as he was before. Yeah, sure, he can be cryptic guy with the details, but he’s more straight up when it comes to giving you a basic idea of what you’re wondering about.”

  
Buffy paused at this curiously. “Really?”

  
“Why? There something you want an answer to?” Xander asked.

  
“Isn’t there a question we’ve all been wondering about?” Buffy retorted.

  
Xander paused for a moment, looking at her as realization struck this. “Who was behind this?”

 

***********************************************  
  
Spike sat in front of the window looking out at the night sky. When people gazed out at infinite space, staring up at the stars, they often found themselves feeling small, insignificant. For whatever reason this comforted people. It did the opposite for Spike. He wanted to matter. No. It wasn’t quite that ambitious. He just wanted a purpose. Perhaps that was the same thing, but then it depended on the scale of to what he wanted his purpose to matter. He always felt that his desire was no greater than the bloke down the street, but he wanted that purpose. More than that, he wanted to have a right to having a purpose. He had no right. So, when he stared up at the sky and tried to feel comfort in being insignificant, it only made him realize that he was significant, but in all the worst ways. He had taken a whole lot of “insignificant” lives. No longer could they looked up at giant sky or into the great big sea, or wherever the bloody hell it was that people went to put their existence down in the most positive of ways. No longer could they feel comfort that they were very small in the grand scheme of things. The funny thing was, they weren’t small. Spike knew that. He worked with people that proved there were very big things that a very small entity could do, especially when they got together to make that something happen. 

  
He snorted at the thought. It was all very after school special.

  
He had been part of that after school special too. It didn’t matter if he had a right to do it; it was worth it for the very fact that he had helped save the world. The purpose might not have belonged to him, but he had saved lives. He didn’t regret that at the very least. It was the one time the place in the machine that was being operated didn’t depend on someone worthy. It didn’t matter so long as the job got done. Yet, to do a hero’s job was a lie, he figured it. He’d be living as something that he wasn’t and that seemed worse to him in the long run. It might help, but his existence was a lie.

  
Huh. Interesting. He could see why people did this. You didn’t have to feel small and insignificant to be given some kind of clarity. The sky had spoken. He was a fraud.  
Who was he kidding? That was the least of it. Yes, having a soul made him crave some sort of a destiny. It was part of being as human as he was ever going to get.

 

But maybe his mind just didn’t want to focus on the other things that suffocated him. The memories of being down with Wood, God no one had ever made him scream so much in his life. Then again, the darkest forms of torture could do that to a bloke. He was worn out and angry and it was hard to be both at the same time, because they were such rivals. He just wanted to bounce back. Why did he dwell on the things that The First said to him down in the initiative and why did he, even more, still go back to the first time The First had taken him as prisoner? Yeah, there was that. He had moved on alright, that is, until he had been snatched up again. If you throw a guy in front of a car and then pick him up and throw him in front of a car again, don’t you think he’s going to be even worse off than if it had just happened the one time? He had been damaged after what The First did to him, but he pushed forward. He always did. They were in a constant state of war. No one had time to lick their wounds slowly. Now, it just hurt. It hurt all the time and he was so tired. But he was also so angry with himself for not being able to bounce back this time. He was a vampire. He had experienced darker than this, done darker than this, hadn’t he? This shouldn’t be such a big deal.

 

 “Spike…” Dawn’s voice came from behind him. She had sat there for a little bit, watching him, noticing his pensive gaze out the window, and wondering what he was thinking about.   


“Your turn to watch me, is it then?” Spike spoke without turning towards her.   


“Yeah. I’ve been here for about five minutes.” She responded.  


If he heard her, he didn’t show it. “Have you ever looked up at the sky?”  


“Yeah…” Dawn answered, wonder what he was about to tell her.

  
“What did you see?” Spike asked.

  
“Stars.” Dawn responded, not sure what answer he was looking for.

  
Spike actually laughed. 

  
“Spike, are you okay?” Dawn moved a little closer to him, but didn’t come too close, keeping sure he had his personal space.

  
Spike laughed again. “I tried to drink a vile of holy water. Figure I’m not.”

  
Dawn looked down at the ground, unsure she had an answer to that.

  
“Well, out with it then.” Spike turned to her in a challenging manner now.

  
Dawn looked surprised by this sudden change to him. Calm one minute and now he looked as though she was about to go off the handle. Maybe she needed to go and get Buffy… “Out with what?” She decided to answer, ready to back away if need be.

  
Spike saw her motion towards the door. He didn’t know if she was afraid of him or afraid for him. He figured that it was probably a bit of both. He decided that was smart. “Must have somethin’ to say to me.” He shook his head. Little Bit with a temper. Yes, she had to have something to say. “You must.”

  
Dawn paused thoughtfully. “Sometimes when I think about my existence, what I am, or what I was before this, I picture energy in darkened space, surrounded by stars. It’s weird. I don’t really know if that makes any kind of sense, but it’s what I picture.”

  
Spike looked up at her sharply, definitely not expecting that, but accepting it as an answer. “What does that mean to you?”

  
Dawn shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just kind of have accepted what I really am. I’m made from Buffy, but before that I was this mystical energy. I guess, what I’ve decided on is that it doesn’t matter what I once was, but who I am now.”

  
Spike paused thoughtfully for a moment and then turned and looked back up towards the starry sky. “That’s good, Bit. Right way to look at things. Except for the fact that who you once were is still who you are. People can change, but sides of their personality can never go away. Their history as well.”

  
Dawn sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to figure out where his head was at. He had more or less spelled it out for her. “I guess that’s the good thing about life then.”

  
“What’s that then?” Spike inquired.

  
“You never run out of chances to try again.” Dawn smiled at him simply.

  
Spike nodded at her quietly.

  
“Spike, why did you try to do it?” Dawn hadn’t been sure she dared to ask this question, the way her voice shook as the words came out showed this. 

  
Spike’s tired eyes met with her own. “I just need to sleep.”

  
“Oh. Well. You can get into bed if you’re tired. I won’t disturb you.” Dawn made her way towards the bed to undo the covers.

  
Spike reached for her hand, stopping her, turning her towards him. “No. Not that.”  
Dawn looked at him a little lost.

   
Spike’s met with hers, looking into them, almost seeing her soul. “I need to sleep. Peace.”

  
Dawn caught onto what he was saying, her heart breaking as she saw the pain in his eyes. “Oh, Spike….what happened to you?”

  
Spike kept his eyes fixed on hers, the tone of his voice not shifting. “You know the answer to that.”

  
She kept his gaze, and tears came streaming down her face. “You’re not what you once were. You’re Spike. You’re my friend. You’ve done so much good that you don’t see. That you won’t let yourself see!” Dawn spoke frantically. “You really didn’t deserve what he did to you.”

  
“Maybe.” Spike shrugged. “Then again. Maybe not.”

  
Dawn looked at him sadly. “What do you mean?”

  
He turned back and looked towards the sky.  


Spike didn’t respond this time.  
  
  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy tapped Dawn out. 

  
That was the way he saw it. A person came in and until they were tapped out, they had to sit there and try to analyze, and figure out, the darkened puzzle of his mind. 

  
They couldn’t figure out the answer, because there was no answer. He didn’t hold the answer key, but by the way they spoke to him it seemed that they expected that he did. At the very least, that he was their lab partner in their research. He was both the partner and the experiment at the same time. The experiment. Funny that, he was getting used to the role, laid out on the slab to be poked at and prodded, sometimes ripped open. Even frogs were already dead by the time dissection began. Then again, there wouldn’t be much to dissect if he was dead. He’d have been dust. He figured that was Wood’s point. He didn’t want him dead. He wanted him to suffer the way that he had suffered.

  
He understood. Yet, at the same time he wanted to be left alone in the same room as the bloke, to tear him apart. It was one thing he was learning from having a soul, feelings could still be contradicting things, morals didn’t clear that up. It was part of the reason he was starting to figure that this weren’t worth trying to figure out anymore. There was always a new way to look at it and there was always another reason to understand it the opposite way. No wonder councilors had to take years upon years of school before they could truly understand. How much did they really understand once they were through anyway?

  
Buffy stood in front of him, looking down at him, her features none too intimidating, but he could tell that she was building herself up for something.  


“Just say it.” Spike stated.  


“What?” Buffy took a step back, not expecting him to really speak at all, not unless someone addressed him. It seemed that this was the way it was going for everyone else.   


“You have that look. The one people get when they have somethin’ serious to say. So, best to just rip the band aid off. Say it.” Spike reasoned.  


Buffy bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. It wasn’t something that she could just ask. There was a reason why people build things up sometimes. This was one of those times. She wanted to ease him into this conversation, more importantly, make sure the timing was okay based on how he was feeling. She didn’t want him to go over the edge again, but right now, it didn’t look as though that was going to be easy. “Spike, I don’t want to have too heavy of a conversation with you if you’re not ready for one.” Buffy answered honestly.

  
Spike shrugged. “Never ready. Best to just get it over with.”

  
“It’s about what happened to you.” She warned him softly.

  
“Yeah. Now’s not the time for that.” He confirmed.

  
“Spike, it’s really important that we talk about this.” Buffy almost pleaded.

  
“Thought you wanted to make sure I was okay with somethin’ this heavy. Instincts were right. I’m not.” Spike sighed. “If I wanted to talk ‘bout it. I would. I won’t. Haven’t with anyone.” 

  
Buffy kneeled down in front of him, taking his hands in hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m not just anyone.”  


Spike didn’t look at her right away, but after a moment he found his eyes locking with her own. “You’re right. You’re not.”  


She took her hands away from his, her eyes never leaving his face. “What does that mean?”  


“What more do you need to know, Buffy? You saw me down there. Saw me in a way that I wished you hadn’t.” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Way I wish no one would have.”  


“I don’t think less of you-.”  


“I know.” He cut her off. “Doesn’t matter. It gets to me is all.”  


“It doesn’t have to. The fact that you went through that shows me how str-.”   


“Don’t tell me how strong I am.” Spike cut her off before looking down at the ground.

 

“Don’t say that.”  


Buffy lifted his chin up, making him look at her. “No. I am going to tell you how strong you are. You went through what you went through and you are going to be okay from it. It hasn’t been easy. It’s been heartbreaking and messy, but you are going to get through this. I am going to help you get through this and you are then going to see just how strong you are.”  


Spike shared her gaze for a moment before a soft smirk fell over his face. “If you hadn’t gotten to me in time I’d be dust right now.”  


“Yeah.” Buffy agreed.  


“That isn’t strength.” Spike stated evenly.  


It wasn’t strength and he found that he didn’t care anymore. He couldn't be the strong warrior that she wanted anymore, and he was past bothering to keep trying.  


Buffy sighed defeated. She couldn’t make him see it yet. She couldn’t make him understand right now and she didn’t honestly expect to. She didn’t know what to trust as signs of progress right now. He had been so good at hiding his feelings, though, right now he had even given up the will to pull a fast one over on all of them, even if it were solely for the sake of ending it again. He was truly beaten down.

  
Spike was beaten down.   


The thought lit a fire under her and she whipped her head up towards him again. “Who did this to you?”  
Spike looked at her with a bit of surprise. “What?”

  
“I said, who did this to you?” Buffy repeated, with just as much determination as before.

“That’s what I came up here to ask you. I want a name.”  


“What makes you think I know who it is?” Spike responded simply.  


“A month with this guy? I’m thinking you have a pretty good idea who he is by now. I want to know what you know.” Buffy retorted.  


Spike stood up slowly and walked closer to the window. “Now that I’m on suicide watch, it’s funny, figured you might have bolted curtains over the windows or somethin’. Make sure I don’t play peek-a-boo with Mr. Sunshine out there. When he decides to show, that is.”  


“Spike, please. Whoever did this to you needs to be stopped.” Buffy pleaded.  


Spike rolled his eyes. “Stopped? In what way? You goin’ to slay him like a demon?” Spike looked at her annoyed for a moment. “Didn’t think so. Bleedin’ human. That’s what he is. Can’t put him in jail seein’ as I’m already dead. So, what are you goin’ to do? Give him a verbal warnin’? Let him know how displeased you are. Slap on the wrists it is. Let’s face it, Buffy. It’s all you’d be able to do.”

  
Buffy walked over by him, putting her hands on her hips. This was so frustrating. Why couldn’t he just give her one name? She wanted to let that frustration out; she was still so used to being able to do that when he was being difficult. This version of Spike wasn’t sinking in with her easily. “I know it’s not easy to talk about…”

  
“Then why are we still talkin’ ‘bout it?” Spike looked at her with a glare. 

  
“I’m not asking for details. I wouldn’t push for that.” Buffy explained almost desperately.

  
“You shouldn’t be pushin’ for anythin’.” Spike responded easily. “Bloke is gone. Workin’ with The First anyway. Fancy he couldn’t get one over on me now anyway. Not with his mate bein’ defeated and all.”  


“So, what? It just doesn’t matter now?” Buffy asked in disbelief.  


“Maybe.” Spike shrugged. “Then again. Maybe not.”   


Buffy couldn’t get Spike to respond to anything else afterwards.  


***************************************************  
  
Buffy sat out in the garden, staring at all the flowers. She liked to sit out here after a tough day and given the way things were lately, it seemed those were every day. The flowers, all spread out around her, it reminded her that there was still beauty left in the world. It surprised her that they were so well taken care of, but she had to figure that this wasn’t Angel’s doing. But then, Angel could surprise you with what he might decide to care for, so perhaps when the sun went out he had once watered them all. It had been awhile since his passing and they weren’t dying, it was all too possible that someone else had taken over this responsibility or hired someone else to care for them. Buffy didn’t know why, but she liked the idea of Angel having cared for them at some point. Maybe, she liked it, because it was an excuse to think about him some more. With each passing day, she felt him less and less. That had never happened before, even when they were apart. He was always just over in LA. He was still around and he showed up just when he needed to. Now, he was gone and she figured his presence would still exist in this place, a part of him being kept alive as they worked the city that he had decided to do his part for society in. She hadn’t lived here though. She hadn’t really known him here. She hadn’t seen him regularly for a long time and now that she knew he wasn’t just a few hours away, or down the street, or around the corner, he was slipping away. She hated the thought of that. She kept trying to visualize him. See his face, hear his voice. Take in the scent of him. But still, in between these busy days, he slipped away. Faded. She couldn’t let that happen. So, she gave him the flowers. It kept him close to her. It was beautiful. She needed beauty right now. She needed to remember the times when they were beautiful together.

  
“How did things go with Spike?” Xander’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  
Buffy looked up at him. Spike, he was difficult to deal with. Go figure. When one vampire was too difficult to handle she thought of the other one. Even so, thinking of Angel made her sad, so in no time her mind would have been back on Spike again. 

  
She scrunched up her face at her own thoughts. It made her sound so fickle. It wasn’t like that. She had loved Angel. She loved Spike. She felt like she had lost both of them right now in two very different ways. It was harsh on her heart.

  
“I want to help him so bad.” Buffy spoke breathlessly, allowing more vulnerability to come through than she normally liked, but only so much secrecy in this department was possible.

  
Xander immediately took a seat down next to her. “You will. You are.”

  
Buffy shook her head. “I’m not. He can’t talk to me. He’s so far gone.” Buffy sighed. “I feel like a broken record. Which is part of the problem. Part of why I haven’t been able to help him.”

  
“So much about this kind of healing is being repetitive with the person who’s sinking.” Xander reminded her.

  
Buffy nodded. “I know. I think I finally really get that. I keep looking for something that I can do. Some way that I can help. I think I find it, but then…” Her voice trailed off.  
Xander smirked.

  
“What?” Buffy looked at him feeling insulted for some reason. 

  
“Come on, Buff. You know.” Xander looked at her willing her to make the connection to just about every event that had taken place the minute they had gotten Spike back.   
Buffy tilted her head back and sighed. “I know. I get it. I suck.”

  
“You don’t suck. You’re just very with the hands on. It’s getting him his painkillers or getting him back into action and now it’s finding out who did this to him. It’s all very important stuff, but once your mind gets set on something it stays on that something. You got to let him do this in his own time.” Xander paused. “Within reason. The problem is none of us are professionals in this area. We don’t have the schooling that goes along with helping a person like this. There isn’t counseling for vampires that I know of.”

  
“Even if there were, it’s not like he’d want to go. Forced therapy on someone doesn’t really work. I would really know that.” Buffy sighed. “I’ve been holding back on asking who did this to him. It wasn’t just something that I happened to remember today. But, it’s getting to the point where whoever did this could be impossible to find. He could be anywhere.”

  
Xander looked over his shoulder, back towards the hotel, before looking towards Buffy once more. “Well, we do work at an investigation company. We should be able to find anyone.”

  
Buffy smiled. “That’s true. Besides, I’m not about to let him get away. So, if Spike tells me tomorrow or a year from now, I will find this guy.”

  
“I don’t doubt that.” Xander responded.

  
“So how have you been doing? I feel like all my conversations have been so self-absorbed.”

  
“You’ve been dealing with a lot, Buffy. It’s okay.” Xander paused. “And I’m fine. I go and see Cordelia ever now and again.”

  
“You do?” Buffy looked at him somewhat surprised.

  
“Yeah. I know it was high school since I last saw her. But…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Maybe it’s because I lost Anya. I can’t say the things that I wish I could say to her now. Cordelia is there and even though I know she’s probably never going to wake up, I have a chance to say what I need to say to her. Even if I didn’t know that I had things to say after all this time.” Xander found himself looking off at the flowers himself now.

  
“What do you say to her?” Buffy’s eyes widened as the question flew out of her mouth.

 

“That’s way too personal. Ignore me. You don’t have to answer that.”

  
“No. It’s fine. It’s just about loss. I keep losing everyone that I care about. At first, it was just in the sense of death. Now, I realize it’s not just the people that I care about dying, but I ruin the relationships that I’m in. I thought the fact that I attract a lot of demons was a problem, but, worse than that, I can’t keep any around whether they’re human or not.” Xander sighed. 

  
“You’re not alone there, Xander. Look at my track record.” Buffy paused. “Two of them were already dead when I dated them.”

  
Xander smiled at that. “What is it with us? I get with what we do, yeah, we’re likely to lose people. We’ve all lost someone close to us. But, this relationship stuff, I keep messing that up.”

  
Buffy paused thoughtfully. “We’re young. I don’t think too many people get through life without a few heartbreaks along the way. It’s even harder for us to sustain a relationship given the kind of pressure that’s on us. I know that might sound like a cop out, blaming it on the job. If you look at the reasons why you broke up with Anya in the past, why things might have gone south with Cordelia, and then forget about me, it has supernatural disaster written all over my relationships. But, if you look closely, a lot of it has to do with this life.”

  
Xander paused. “I think things with Anya can be connected to the supernatural. No question. The whole demon backstory. I never was fully comfortable with that. I wish I had been. And then that extra fear demon showing up at our very wedding, just to throw an extra wrench into it. I wish I could be the kind of person that could have seen past that, but it was part of it. But, Cordelia, I think that was kid stuff. So, I see what you’re saying about age being a factor.”

  
Buffy pouted. “Two very unfair factors.”

  
Xander nodded. “It can get overwhelming sometimes. Maybe that’s part of why I go and see Cordelia. It brings me back to the beginning of all of this. I need that. To see the whole road that I’ve been on.”

  
“When you’re doing that, try not to just see everything that’s gone wrong, or hurt. You’ve come along way. Grown. Matured. Become a good man. You should try to focus on that a little too.” Buffy stated with soft encouragement. 

  
Xander looked towards Buffy in a quiet manner. “Spike will open up to you eventually. You’re a great friend.”

  
Buffy smiled. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.”

  
***************************************************  
  
Spike was laying on the bed now, his arm draped over his eyes. Willow had been watching him quietly. He had a number of people in and out of the room. She was thinking that they needed to have a bit of a better schedule for this suicide watch thing. His head must be spinning at this point; maybe that was why his arm was over his eyes, to steady the room.

  
“So, what’s your angle?” Spike asked from underneath his arm.

  
“My angle?” Willow asked before looking at him slightly panicked. “Was I supposed to come here with an angle? No one told me.”

  
“No.” Spike responded. “Just everyone else did. Think they can cure me.”

  
Willow relaxed. “Maybe they think they can save you from going off the deep end with their mouth, because that’s how Xander saved me.” Willow pointed out with a playful smile. Okay, so he couldn’t see the smile, but she was sure that he could hear it in her voice.

  
Spike looked up at her in annoyance. “Can’t believe that worked.”

  
Willow gave him a genuine smile. “Well, I’ve known him longer than anyone. I guess it makes sense that if anyone would be able to reach me, it would be him.”

  
Spike laid his head back down. “Figure I don’t have anyone like that.”

  
“I don’t know. As annoying as everyone has probably been today, you’ve to give it to them that they’ve been trying. Why do you think they’ve been trying?” Willow questioned. 

  
“Nothin’ better to do, I figure it.” Spike responded simply. “Must be a slow day for evil.”

  
Now, Willow rolled her eyes. “We both know that’s not true. A lot of people have been trying to help you since you’ve gotten back. You’re kind of one of us now. Strangely.”

  
Spike smirked. Strangely. He liked that. It was true. It felt odd. Even if he had a soul. It felt odd. He didn’t consider himself a member of the group. He wasn’t all that interested in being a member really, but still he was, in a way, part of whatever this was.   
Spike sat up and looked at Willow. “Buffy talks to you.”

  
Willow gave a small shrug. “Yeah. She does. We’re friends, remember. Why?”

  
“Don’t know.” He sighed. “She wasn’t pressurin’ me or anythin’. Just more questions. Needin’ more answers from me. More of somethin’. Always wants more.” 

  
“She cares about you.” Willow explained softly. “It can cause her to be crazy Buffy.”

  
Spike snorted. “She was more in control of the lot of that, but I can’t...”

  
“Can’t what?” Willow inquired.  


“Can’t trust her with this yet. What happened to me. Who did it.” Spike shook his head.

“Don’t even trust myself to think ‘bout it. What I’m thinkin’. It’s all I do anyway. Part of me feels like my head is lyin’ to me. Part of me feels like this bloke helped me see the real raw truth of what I am.” Spike sighed. “Too much buggerin’ emotion. And I don’t want to trouble Buffy with the lot of it. She couldn’t deal. Wouldn’t know how to handle it.”

  
Willow nodded and understood. “Everyone has their weaknesses. You can be a good person, but still completely fail in one area. It can be a place where you really need someone in, but they just can’t bring themselves to be what you need, because of their own experiences. Issues. You find who can be what for you. Buffy is great in a lot of ways, but we all know she hasn’t always been emotional girl. She’ll have your back. She’ll be there for you. You can even tell her about what happened; she might not know the right thing to say, but she’ll have your back. The emotional advice, yeah, you might need a different person for that. It doesn’t mean she can’t be trusted.”

  
“A lot has been ridin’ on her shoulders.” Spike stated. 

  
“Asking for help isn’t always easy for her. It isn’t for anyone. Honestly, I don’t how much better any of us really would have done in her shoes.” She smiled. “But we all want to help you.”

  
“Not like I’m very best friends with everyone.” Spike snorted once more.

  
Willow shrugged. “You used to be pretty out of the loopy.”

  
Spike narrowed his gaze on her.

  
“Fine. You still are. If that’s what you want to hear.” Willow smirked.

  
Spike, for what felt like the umpteenth time today, rolled his eyes.

  
“We might not be very best friends, but I get what you’re going through. You can talk to me.” Willow stated. “We’ve talked before. So, you know that. I hope.”

  
Spike nodded quietly. “Sure. A few times, mostly after I tried to kill you.”

  
Silence. It was his best friend. He liked when it took over the room; there wasn’t any pressure for him to talk. He could think. He could collect his thoughts. Only, he found, he was running out of thoughts to have. It was the same nasty bits that were coming to mind. His brain was spewing off its’ usual position on everything and especially the things he was always trying to avoid. The details of what had happened. Of what Wood had done, the constant incapacitating lockdown, the continuous slashing and burning, operating on him while he was awake. The only place he allowed those memories were in his nightmares and that was only because he didn’t get a choice in the matter. 

  
Willow saw him dissociate. Spike was gone, the blank expression overtaking his face. She wondered what he was seeing just then, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know. He had been held against his will for a month, The First being part of that kidnapping. If anything knew how to bestow unspeakable evil on a person, it was The First. Then again, it had him once before this and he had seemed okay shortly after. Perhaps, this guy that had Spike, whoever he was, had actually been sadistic enough that The First had learned a thing or two. She really didn’t like that thought. 

  
Spike’s eyes flickered back to life and he looked up at her. “When you were evil, how far did you go?”

  
Willow looked at him with shy unease. “I ripped Warren’s skin off.”

  
Spike looked at her expressionlessly. “That was a rude question.”

  
“It’s okay.” Willow responded gently.

  
“I was operated on.” Spike stated.   


“I know that.” Willow spoke in the same gentle manner.  


“I was awake.” Spike clarified.  


Willow’s eyes widened. She felt her mouth go dry, color draining from her face. Her mind racing with ways to make this better. He had to have passed out shortly after it started. Still, even a moment of that kind of pain, she was sure that it was beyond anything anyone of them had experienced.  


Spike smirked, noting the look on her face. “That’s right. Awake. The whole bleedin’ time. Saw it when the bloke held up my lungs.”  


Willow looked down, trying to process what he was saying. So, they had never been the best of friends, they didn’t need to be for this to make her completely sick. No one deserved to go through that. Even if he were evil, hypothetically, he didn’t deserve to go through this. Buffy staked vampires, because they were killing, but it was humane the way she did it. It was quick and painless. She didn’t tie them down and have her fun torturing them beforehand. Spike, he had a soul, he was rehabilitated. Sick. That was the only word for it. Whoever did this was sick.  


“Too much information?” Spike asked with his eyebrow raised casually.  


“No.” Willow waved her hand. “No. It’s not that. I’m just, taking it in.” Her features turned sympathetic. “I’m so sorry, Spike.”  


Spike shrugged it off. “It’s fine. Did a lot of nasties in my time. Figure I earned it.”  


“No.” Willow shook her head. “No one deserves that kind of treatment.”  


“Maybe.” Spike shrugged. “Then again. Maybe not.”  


Spike continued this time.   


“Besides, brassed the bloke off. Had a personal score to settle with me.” Spike responded.  


Willow looked at him curiously; they were getting closer to an answer. “He did?”  


“Spike nodded. “Yeah. Since I killed his mum and all.”  


Willow tilted his head to the side confused for a moment. Did they know someone whose mother he had-? Her train of thought was cut off with the answer to that question shoving it aside. “Wood…Wood did this to you?” Willow asked in a shock filled tone.  


Spike nodded.  


The enemy had been fighting by their side, that whole time.  


***************************************************  
  
There had been word of a Lindsay sighting. This would normally be good news; however, it also meant that Buffy needed everyone that was fit to go. She had taken a deep breath when saying what she had to say, but there was no way around it. “We need to bring Spike along.”

  
Her words had been met with confusion and even slight argument, but it was the only way. She couldn’t leave him under the same watch she had left him with the last time all of them had gone out. Xander and Fred couldn’t handle it if he tried to do something to himself, Spike was too strong. This time, Gunn, who probably had the best chance of being able to fight Spike, even if it hadn’t worked out too well the last time, wouldn’t be there. She needed him on this. She needed as many people who were familiar with Lindsay as possible. They knew all his tricks, all the things to watch out for, and if he did have the support of Wolfram & Hart behind him then it was going to be all the more tricky to capture and question the guy. Spike had to come. End of story.

  
Spike didn’t make too much of a fuss about it, but she could tell that deep down he wanted to. That was good. It meant that he wasn’t trying to cut off all of his feelings. He still showed sparks of anger, anguish, and frustration. As much as it hurt her to see him this way, Xander was right, there was a change to him. He was more blunt, to the point, on his own terms, at least. He still gave over more than he ever would have in the past as far as feelings and information went. It was a look into just how much he was giving up, as if his suicide attempt hadn’t been enough of a look. The defeat was starting to show in his actions, but he still had pieces of emotion left, even if he stifled them most of the time. It was still there. It meant that his mind was still here, for now. She worried how much longer that would last until it would go. She was on a time limit to save him and she still didn’t know how she was going to begin to attempt that.

  
At least she wasn’t fool enough to believe that this little outing would do the trick anymore. She couldn’t believe that, in the past, she had thought these little old activities they used to do together would be enough. She knew from her own experience that routines and having something to do was important during terrible times, but that getting plenty of room to breathe and understanding of not being all up to your usual level was important too. Patience and care. Spike had always appreciated these outings though. Even the first time she'd seen him worked up in a state, when he came back to Sunnydale after Dru had dumped him, it was taking part of a real brawl and kicking some ass that helped him back to himself. Same thing a year later, when he'd tried to commit suicide and had come off the idea only after a good spot of demon-slaying. She dearly hoped the same kind of effect could kick in now, soon.  
  
They were walking the streets of the neighborhood where their informant had said Lindsay would be. But as of yet there were no sighting of him. They stopped and dusted a few vampires when they spotted them, and even got a, probably deceitful, tip from one of them of where Lindsay might be right now. But there were no trace of him, and Buffy was starting to worry. The night wasn't young anymore. They couldn't stay out too much longer before sunrise. And looking around her, she could see they were all tired, and moving on merely in fierce determination to finish the mission. Just as she was about to call it quits for the night, they spotted him - walking down the next alley, headed straight for the post office. The whole gang suddenly went tense and silent, and hid around the corner, while Gunn took on the task of sneaking up and quickly pinning Lindsay to the wall behind him with his fists. "I thought we told you the last time we met that you come back here at your own peril?" he growled. Lindsay smirked at him. "Well, actually, Angel told me that. But he's not here anymore, now is he?" He gave Gunn a proud, knowing look, and used the moment when the message sank in to push free of his grip, duck and dive away. "You..." Gunn stated in shocked anger. "I should have known it was you!" He got up and charged after him, with the others in hot pursuit. They turned around another few corners, and up a back alley, where Lindsay kicked over a lump of garbage cans they had to dodge and find a way through. He used that moment to jump a fence at the end which were making it a dead end street, and climbed over. Gunn was able to reach up just high enough to grab hold of his jacket, but he just slipped out of it, and jumped down on the other side and down the next road. "Dammit!" Gunn swore, and started climbing up after him, but got tripped up in the jacket he was holding, and fell on his back back down on the ground.   
  
Buffy helped him up, and turned him around, away from there. "He's gone" she said, calmly. "It's almost morning, we're all tired and Spike needs to get inside before sunrise. Let's go home. I'm sure we'll get a whiff of him some other time as well." She took the jacket off him, and studied it. "And, we've got this." She smiled pensively.   
  
***************************************************  
  
As they all walked into the hotel and through the lobby, Spike lingered behind. He was tired. He needed a break. Some alone-time, which they seemed to be all too hesitant to give him lately. He just stood there, and tried to gather his mind. Uselessly, it seemed, as it was still overflowing with too many thoughts to ever keep track of. At least they had not made a complete failure of the mission. They had found Lindsay, chased him down... and taken his jacket, while letting him get away. They had let Lindsay get away because of him. Because he needed to get back inside before sunrise and they were running out of time.   
  
He looked out the window. The sun wasn't up yet, but he could smell it. Feel the warmth approaching. It was very close. That warmth. His cold body and still heart could use it. Craved it. He had heard an uncounted number of times lately that there's always light at the end of the tunnel. He had walked so long already. Why couldn't that end come now? He wanted to just walk into the light, and feel his fears and worries and flesh and bone just go up in smoke and cinders and be swept away by the wind. Flying, free, oblivious. He opened the door, and went outside.  
  
Or, he would have, if strong hands hadn't grabbed the neck of his jacket and jerked him back inside. Buffy had noticed that Spike hadn't followed them when they had gotten upstairs, and gone down to retrieve him. Now she was glad she had. Glad and, well mostly, brim-full with fear. She couldn't believe he had actually tried to do it again! Or, she could, this was what everyone had told her might happen, but it still scared the living crap out of her.   
  
She dragged him sprawling into the house, until he was able to ram a well aimed elbow into her still rather freshly scarred stomach, making her bend over and groan, giving him a second to dodge and make another run for the door, until she was on him again, all fists and flying feet, blocking his exit, with desperation written over her whole face and features. It made him almost soft, to see that there, how stricken she was, how her pain almost seemed to rival his. But most of all, seeing that made him all the more insecure, and frightened and guilty as well. What, was she about to yell at him again now? Tell him how he should take his pain and shove it up some unnamed place so as to not hurt her anymore? Yeah, because she was always number one huh? The only one that mattered. Their kicks and punches grew faster and harder, as the frightful desperation gave way to mutual anger. How dared he try to abandon her again? How dared she attack him, like he was a problem rather than having one?   
  
Hit, kick, dodge, parry. Heightened and heightened intensity. Snarls, glares, full focus. She took in every detail of his face and posture. Every strained, tensed move, every angry look, and each sore gaze in between. And she knew he did the same with her. She could feel it. He had always been an open book like that. It felt like they were saying more to each other now, wordlessly, than they had been able to express in all the words they had kept flinging at each other for the last couple of weeks. Their faces grew sorer, the pace of the fight slowed down. He could sense her concern and worry in every almost tender punch that landed. He took it in. Every kick felt nearly like a caress. It was like they were moving into slow-dance mode. And he suddenly felt warm inside. Felt it spread, from his moving fists and feet, towards the center of his chest, where his unbeating heart seemed to swell, and up towards his head, where it spread out in a broad, genuine smile. 

  
The changed rhythm of the dance was affecting Buffy too. She found herself smiling, and noticed with surprise that he did the same. He was! And not just the plastered "going through the motions" smile, that she still blamed herself for not seeing through earlier. The kind that brightened up his face and made his eyes shine. She laughed happily, and quickened their speed again, pushed up another notch what was now easily morphing into a sparring match.  
  
He was happy to oblige her. Yes, actually, happy! He took a moment just to marvel at that. His body was starting to feel stiff and sore by now, and would probably sport an interesting palette of colors in the morning, but his spirit felt lighter than it had in a long time. This was fun! Fun in the way it was meant to be. She laughed, and he chuckled with her, while they blocked each other's kicks, and filtered their legs together, tumbling to the floor in one heap, locked in each other's warm gazes.   
  
He laid there, and felt her warm body entwined with his, her bright, shining gaze focused on his face, and realized what a fool he had been just before. This was the light and warmth that he craved. The brightness of her presence. The fire of their interactions. Yes, it might tear him to shreds some times that too, but in an infinitely better way than the rising sun outside.  
  
An outside voice broke in, and disturbed their bliss. "Hurry, come up here quick. Angel is back!"

 


	16. Welcome Back

 

Buffy's head felt light. She didn’t know what to believe. Angel, back? What could they mean? She had watched him dust herself. She knew he was gone. How could he be back? A mirage of him, or what?   
  
When she hurried upstairs to the others though, there he was. Standing amidst them, looking about as befuddled by the whole situation as they were. He was back! Just like in her dreams of late. She pinched herself in the arm and was bruisingly notified that she was indeed wide awake. She looked at him, and he looked at her back, with those warm glowing eyes that she had lost herself in so many times in the past. "Angel. You're back!" She broke into a run, and threw herself into his arms. And nosedived to the floor, straight through him. "Well, not entirely, it seems." Wesley stated dryly. They all laughed heartily. 

   
Wes folded out the paper he held in his hand, and pointed to it. "I much suspect this will hold the explanation to this strange incident." Buffy looked up at him, while rubbing her nose and scrambling off the floor. "What's that? You've reached to look up the right book on the matter already?" Wes eyed her with a hint of scorn, and replied flatly. "I'm afraid not. This was found while searching the jacket that our prime suspect was so kind to divest himself of while we chased him down tonight." He held it out and read aloud:  


"To Wolfram & Hart:   
  
As a token of my *all too deepfelt* appreciation after our long and fruitful relationship, I hereby present you, free of charge, what you have been craving for so long, the prize that made you assume it would be worthwhile to let go of my continued services: The precious soul of the Champion. Hope you enjoy it, for all eternity, like you wanted.  
  
Yours truly,   
  
Lindsay.   
  
P.S: should you, in all your wisdom, deem that a mere demon-tainted soul is not what will get you the desired outcome of our anticipated final apocalypse, I'd advice you to remember the able-bodied employee, yours truly, who is now no longer at your service."

  
Before anyone could comment on the letter, a jeering voice entered the room, as Spike stepped forward, his finger pointing at Angel. “You’re a…You’re a bloody ghost!” Spike continued to laugh for another moment before looking at Angel matter of factly. “That’s funny.”

  
Angel gritted his teeth. “Spike. Glad to see you’re doing better.”  


Spike smirked. “I would say the same to you, but, well…” Spike stepped forward and began poking his fingers through Angel’s face with a big grin on his face “…guess there’s not much to you. Not really sure it’s much of a step up from what you were before.”

  
Buffy gently pushed Spike back a step, already rolling her eyes. They had literally been in the same room for five seconds and it was already starting with them. This was going to be fun. “I’m just going to skip ahead a few insults and tell the both of you to shut up.”  


“He started it.” Angel brooded, upset that he had been cut off before he was able to dish out his retort to the bleach blonde vampire. 

  
“You two really are twelve”, she muttered. 

  
“So, this is really Angel.” Wesley mused to himself. “It’s just hard to believe, given the time you were gone. It was just starting to sink in...”

  
“Well, if it’s not really him then it’s a great poncy imitation.” Spike stated observantly.  


“Do you need to leave?” Buffy folded her arms with a glare.  


“Probably.” Spike responded simply, while making no move to do so.  


Buffy sighed. She should have known that any kind of acknowledgement would only continue to encourage him. Though, selfishly, she was pleased, she realized. Annoyed, but pleased she could be annoyed with him. Even just yesterday he wouldn’t have had it in him to be this much of a pest. Improvement. Buffy fought back a smile. That would really encourage him to keep going if he thought that she was enjoying his antics.

  
“So, this has been Lindsay’s plan? The reason why he’s in town? To deliver a necklace to Wolfram & Hart?” Willow inquired.

  
“Diabolical.” Xander stated with sarcasm.

   
“I think it’s more than that. It has to be.” Buffy thought out loud.” How did you get the necklace?” Buffy inquired. 

  
“Lilah.” Angel answered.

   
“And she is?” Buffy asked. 

  
“She worked for Wolfram & Hart.” Angel’s questioning gaze landed on Buffy, waiting to see what she was getting at.

  
“Did she know Lindsay?” Buffy asked easily.

  
“They both worked together. They headed the same project at one point.” Angel stopped talking for a moment as the dots connected. “You think she was in on the necklace?”

  
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. He must have stayed in touch with her after he left town.” Buffy reasoned.

  
“No, he couldn’t have.” Wesley’s hushed voice spoke up.

  
“How do you know?” Buffy asked.

  
“Because Lilah’s dead.” Angel stated.

   
“So, a ghost gave you the necklace…” Buffy cocked an eyebrow.

 

“Revenge from beyond the grave. I could get along with this Lilah. What happened? Found your tortured hero act annoying too?” Spike leaned up against the wall, folding his arms in amusement. 

  
Buffy rolled her eyes once more. 

  
Angel managed to speak in an almost nonchalant, exasperated tone. “I’d hit you if I could.”

  
“But you can’t. Because  _you’re_  a ghost.” Spike grinned widely.

   
“Anyway,” Willow spoke up, ignoring Spike’s chipper outburst. The Spike they all knew, were strangely glad to see, needed to be gagged right now. “How could he have known about the necklace if Lilah didn’t tell him?”

  
“He has to know someone on the inside then. I don’t know how. Wolfram & Hart would kill him in a second if he knew that he was around, what with all the information he has on them.” Angel explained.

  
“Well, he was about to make himself known in a big way. He must have a heavy duty protection plan on him.” Gunn stated.

  
“So, he probably planned this necklace trap out a while ago, with someone in Wolfram & Hart, using Sunnydale as the perfect time to put that plan in action…” Buffy began.   
“I’m wondering how Lilah got the necklace in her hands to give to you. How could, whoever gave it to her, make her care enough about Sunnydale to pass it on to you, so you could run off and save it.” Buffy inquired.

  
“I assumed Wolfram & Hart didn’t want The First taking over, overshadowing their own apocalypse.” Angel shrugged. “This, we might never know the answer to. I’m betting they didn’t know the necklace would dust me though. Someone had to have made them believe otherwise, so you’re right, Lindsay has to have an accomplice on the inside.” 

"We can’t know for sure until we find Lindsay. Either way, that’s something we’ve got to do.” Angel looked down at his ghost form. “Well, it’s something you all have to do.”

  
“That’s the other thing.” Buffy noted. “You can’t stay this way.”

  
Fred piped up eagerly, bringing herself forward in the crowd. “That I can get on. It’s all a matter of science. Science is my thing.” 

  
“Thanks, Fred.” Angel gave her a warm smile.

  
“I think the rest of us know what we have to do.” Buffy paused as an intense look took over her features. “Find Lindsay.” 

  
***********************************************************************  
  
“Weird.” Fred pouted as she ran the scanner over Angel’s form. 

  
“Weirder than this?” Buffy questioned with almost amused uncertainty in her voice.

  
Fred, Angel, and Buffy stood in the back office as Fred ran her examination on Angel. She had spent all afternoon looking into the materials that she could possibly need to figure out the puzzle that was her friend and old boss. “I'm getting electromagnetic readings consistent with spiritual entities, but there's no ectoplasmic matrix.” Fred explained.

  
“What does that mean?” Buffy asked, her own confusion showing on her face.

  
“Ectoplasm's what makes ghosts visible to the human eye. If he's a ghost, technically, we shouldn't be able to see him.” She paused. “And I'm detecting brainwave activity. Also, ghosts generally absorb light and heat energy making the area around them a few degrees cooler. Angel's radiating heat.”

  
“So, what am I?” Angel tried to ask without sounding impatient. He wasn’t entirely sure he did a great job of that, but he was understandably antsy. 

  
“I don’t know.” Fred sighed. “Whatever you are, you’re tied to the amulet since it held your essence.”

  
“I wonder why Lindsay kept the necklace for so long. You have been trapped in there for several weeks. Why wait?” Buffy questioned.

  
“We could ask a thousand questions and never know the answer. We have to find him if any sort of light is going to be shed on this. The one thing we do know for sure is that he was pissed about Wolfram & Hart making a deal with me to head their branch here.”

Angel shook his head. Even after all this time, Lindsay was bitter. It wasn’t the spirit that he had left Wolfram & Hart in, but, Angel couldn’t say he was surprised. Lindsay always had a change of heart after doing the right thing. Always.

  
Buffy sighed. “I don’t like not having all of the pieces.” She looked up at Angel in warm concern. “Especially when it directly involves someone I care about.” 

  
Angel met her eyes, and mirrored her concern. “You should get some sleep.” he commented. “You’ve been up all night and all morning.”

  
“I can’t.” Buffy shook her head. “I have to work. I have to get to the bottom of this.”

  
“What more can you do right now?” Angel questioned.

  
“Hit the streets. Try to find him in the day?” Buffy stated. 

  
Angel shook his head. “You’re not going to find him. Any kind of activity that is going to come from him is going to happen at night.”

  
“Maybe if he was a vampire, which I can understand your confusion on time tables here given that you’re a vampire yourself…or were a vampire-“

  
“I’m still a vampire.” Angel cut her off. “You can just go through me…for now. He might not be your usual run of the mill demon and vampire, but that’s the kind that he hangs out with. Lindsay isn’t smart enough to have a plan all on his own. He’s got to have at least one other person helping him out with this. When you’ve worked for years with different entities, you’re going to do your dirty work at night.”

  
“Maybe. But he has to be somewhere during the day.” Buffy commented.

  
“Some dark and covert, and probably frequently changing, that you are not likely to track down today.” Angel sighed. He forgot how stubborn she could be. “Buffy, even if you did find him, somewhere in the daylight, just getting coffee and taking a walk, you’re exhausted.”

  
“I’m still stronger than him.” Buffy pointed out. 

  
“Yeah, but we don’t know what he’s playing with right now. We don’t know what he’s up to. We have to be smart about this. You know that. You don’t need to be told how to do your job. We all want to do this right. All I’m asking is you get a few hours’ sleep before pursuing him.” Angel implored her. “I know you want answers, but can’t they wait a few hours?”

  
Buffy’s body tensed up as she went to speak, her face displaying an emotion that Angel couldn’t read, because she simply wouldn’t let it completely come to pass. Her eyes landed on Fred and she forced back whatever it was that she was going to say. “You’re right. I need to rest up for tonight. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  
With that, Buffy quickly left.

  
Fred stood awkwardly for a moment before placing the scanner down that she still held in her hands as she watched the scene unfold before her. “She’s had a lot going on lately.”

  
“Yeah.” Angel said softly. “I figured that.”

  
He wanted to go to her, but he couldn’t. Not right now. She needed a good day’s sleep first. Until then, he’d talk to his team, get them in order. 

  
“How about we round everyone up. Well,  _our_  everyone that is. I want to talk to you guys alone.” 

  
“Oh. Okay.” Fred nodded. “I’ll go get them.”  
  
***************************************************

  
“Given the changes that have obviously taken place since I left, could someone explain to me the new protocol?” Angel inquired. 

  
_Snort_

  
“Did someone just snort?” Angel’s brow furred. 

  
“Of course not.” Gunn snickered. 

  
Angel glared out at the amused faces staring back at him, Even Wesley had his head tilted down and Angel expected it wasn’t in serious thought.

  
“This is important.” Angel folded his arms. 

  
Fred cleared her throat. “We know. It’s just…”

  
“Just what?” Angel scowled. 

  
“We can almost see through you.” Fred grinned. 

  
Gunn snorted.

  
Wesley looked even closer to the ground.

  
“This is overwhelmingly mature.” Angel muttered. “It’s like being in the room with three Spikes.”

  
“We’re sorry. We’re just so happy to have you back!” Fred explained. 

  
“Sort of. Again. We can see through you.” Gunn pointed out.

  
Laughter broke out.

  
Angel sighed. “Are you through yet?”

  
The team composed themselves, a few straggling laughs, and the room fell silent.

  
“Now, can someone tell me about the new set-up?” Angel requested, focusing on extra dense thoughts, and noting with relief that he grew a lot less translucent.

  
“It’s not much different than before. It’s Angel Investigations on a grander scale.” Wesley began.

  
“I take it Buffy has taken point.” Angel questioned, having already answered the inquiry for himself. 

  
“Yes, given that they know where their strengths are best served, the transition was quite easy.” Wesley added.

  
“Yet, still, with all our numbers we can’t manage to locate Lindsay.” Gunn rolled his eyes.

  
“I’d say my being here now, and not at Wolfram  & Hart, says otherwise. You got close before, you can get close again. I take it Willow did a locator spell?” Angel asked.

  
“She did. It says he doesn’t exist. We suspect a use of a spell to keep him off the map, though there’s no way to narrow down which one.” Wesley explained. 

  
Angel nodded. “What about Wolfram & Hart?”

  
“What about them?” Gunn asked. 

  
“They haven’t given you any problems with Buffy hanging around these parts?” Angel furthered his questioning; bringing it into new territory, knowing anything about Lindsay that could be known had already been previously discussed. 

  
Fred shook her head. “They’ve shown no interest since you’ve been gone. It makes sense if they’ve withdrawn their offer after you died, but Buffy has been taking to the streets the way you did…”

  
“She never personally waged war on them.” Angel mused. “It’s a lot easier for them to pull their schemes off without someone personally breathing down their necks.”

  
“Living in LA, I’d say it was only a matter of time before she’d have to.” Gunn stated.   
“Especially with our history.” Wesley expanded. “Of course Buffy’s feelings have been that they’d come to her first. It’d give her the chance to get a feel for them.”

  
“I’m not judging her. I didn’t get involved with Wolfram & Hart right away either. From what I can tell she’s done a good job.” Angel commented. “Alright, I want you all to dedicate yourself to finding Lindsay, same as Buffy said before upstairs. Gunn, you’ll take to the streets. Wesley, get on the phone with Lorne, let him know I’m back and see if he has any connections that might lead us to Lindsay. Fred, hit the books, see what you can do about narrowing things down, find out what spell he’s using. If we find Lindsay, we’ll find the answers we need.”

  
Angel stood before them proudly, back in the game of good versus evil, finally able to take charge again. He was doing what he did best and he was going to make Wolfram & Hart pay for what they had done. They would see just how serious he was. 

  
Laughter broke out again. Gunn, Fred, and Wesley practically holding their sides, the laughing actually hurting it was coming out so hard. 

  
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…we’re just…we’re taking orders from a not-a-ghost!” Fred choked over her words. 

  
“We can see through him!” Gunn added.

  
The uproarious laughter took complete control of the room.  
Angel rolled his eyes.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
 _Her eyes, lit with determination and anger, stared down at Angelus. He was defeated. She had overpowered him. Her friends no longer by her side, gone and hospitalized, Spike having taken off with Drusilla, his interest in this matter having been met. There was only her. She had been enough. When it came down to it, it was her who had to make the difficult choices. It was only she who could save the world now, stop Acathla from sucking everything and everyone into hell, and the coldness of her heart could show no mercy. Buffy raised the sword, ready to take the head of her former lover._

_  
He wasn’t even that anymore. He was just Angelus, wearing the face of the man she had once loved._

_  
Then, in eyes, she saw how they glowed. She saw his face soften as he dropped down to the floor. His eyes gazed up to her and her hand hesitated, the blade of the sword no longer prepared to drop into him as she had been ready to only moments before. She felt her heart warm once more, crying, a sign that it had come back to life._

_  
“Buffy?” Angel stood up, looking sorely at her._

_  
Buffy’s immediately took a step back, unsure of what’s going on. A flash, and then, could it be, was Angel really standing before her now?_

_  
“Angel?” Buffy questioned, her voice small._

_  
“You’re hurt.” Angel observed, noticing her cuts. He came towards her, taking her in his arms. Buffy felt as the arm holding her sword went limp, allowing him to fold his arms around her. She felt her heart sobbing, his soul having returned. For months and months it was all she could hope for. He couldn’t be gone! This monster couldn’t be him! Not the man that she loved, that she had given her whole self to. He had to come back…and he had…he had! He had! He had!  
  
Acathla’s mouth began to open right at that second; a low rumble filled Buffy’s ears, deep down knowing that this was coming. She gripped onto Angel tighter as the rumbling only grew louder the more the vortex began to open._

_She pulled away, her eyes filled with passion, looking into his own before moving to kiss him, to show him the words that are to come when the kiss is finished. “I love you.” She speaks quietly._

_  
“I love you…”Angel returns her words affectionately._

_  
“Close your eyes…”_

_  
Angel does as he’s told and Buffy kisses his lips gently once more. Then, stepping back, she takes her sword and thrusts it into-_

  
With a loud scream, Buffy sat up in bed, the nightmare having jolted her back from her deep sleep. She scanned the room, remembering where she was, The Hyperion. She laid back down and sighed. It felt so real. It  _had_  been real. A long time ago. She closed her eyes, willing the sharpness in heart, of a time since passed, to go away. After a few moments, she turns and looks at the clock, seeing that sleep had only stayed with her for no more than two hours. It wasn’t healthy, but it seemed her noisy Slayer brain wasn’t willing to shut off. 

  
Frustrated, Buffy got up and sat on the edge of the bed, no need to risk any more bad dreams from coming over her. Dreams of this category had kept coming since she had let him die, again, down there on the Hellmouth. Now he was back, but not quite, this time. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that it might somehow be her fault.

She’d get by though. It wasn’t like it was a Slayer’s dream. It was a restless sleep, her mind processing what she struggled to do with her eyes open. She was always being chosen, her work calling her. Although, it was up to her how to decide to save the world, she had to be the one to do it. No matter the cost. Up until now, maybe all roads had led to where she was. In L.A., with him. Her life tied to destiny, because a higher power had chosen her, just like it had found him. For the first time, she was free, and still here she was doing her work as though she didn’t have a choice anyway. 

  
She didn’t have a choice. She was needed and she couldn’t walk away from that. But she had more people on her side now. She could chose her missions more. She could focus on helping him, with good conscience. But…now that he was back after she had lost him again, but in such a fragile way that she couldn’t feel sure to get to keep him this time either… her heart broke at the thought.

He was always gone, and he always came back. Someway. Somehow. She always seemed to have to witness it. Life always had a way of going on, taking her down her path, whether destined or chosen. She mourned, she moved on, he popped up once again and left her with a heavy feeling that she couldn’t begin to figure out. She didn’t know what her dreams meant. Perhaps it was just her anxiety when she looked back on her life and realized how deranged it all had really been due to this title of “Slayer.” He had been there from the beginning, longer than she had even known about.

The one thing she did know for sure was that she didn’t want to go back to sleep again. She would have to, after looking for Lindsay later. It wasn’t healthy for her to be sleep deprived. It’d be of the bad for everyone else around her too. No good in a battle, they might have to watch their back around her in case her swings were off because of it. But right now, she couldn’t bring herself to drift off. She wasn’t up for self-analysis and suddenly she was having a strange understanding of the depressed exhaustion that Spike had been going through the past number of weeks.

_Spike…_

  
She couldn’t bring herself to feel overwhelmed by the prospect of Angel and Spike being in the same room together while she was around. She didn’t care. She found that her arms were wide open to the idea, in fact. She was glad that Angel was around again even for there to be messy fights between those two. More complication. More yelling at them. More telling them to grow up. It didn’t matter. Angel was back. He wasn’t dust. So antiquated nightmares be damned! Grumpy vampires and exhausted Slayers be damned! Angel was back. Again. He had come back to her. The world could dust him as many times as it wanted to, but it didn’t seem to be able to keep him down. So, take that, destiny!

  
“Did you sleep?” Angel’s voice rang out in the silent room.

  
Buffy jumped in surprise, her thoughts interrupted. She sighed when she saw him and stood up. “Don’t do that.”

  
“Sorry. I can’t really knock anymore.” Angel explained.

  
“Well, can’t you, I don’t know, shout on the other side of the door or something if you want to come in.”

   
Angel furred his brow trying to come up with a response, but turned up empty handed.   
“Forget it.” Buffy moved her hand, waving it away. She sighed. “And yeah. I got some sleep. A little. It’s kind of hard to keep my mind quiet enough for that right now.” Buffy smirked. “Which has been the story my life for the past year.”

  
“You need to take a break.” Angel pointed out.

  
“Yeah? In the middle of yet another crisis. I’m sure that would go over well for the world.” Buffy stated sarcastically. 

  
“The world isn’t in immediate danger right now-“Angel began.

  
“But you could be.” Buffy quickly interrupted.

  
“What?” Angel looked at her confused.

  
Buffy pushed herself up off the bed. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t been wondering the same thing.”

  
“You’ve obviously been wondering it.” Angel gently pushed.

  
Oh, she so didn’t want to go there. Why had she started this? Already, making with the emotions, the fears, if she just solved this then it wouldn’t be a problem. She wouldn’t have to have the fears and the emotions. Things could just go back to normal. This was better than it was before, but it  _wasn’t_ the way that it was before. Right now, she’d give the world for her past to be her present. Then she would have dragged him out of that hellmouth kicking and screaming before he went down with it.

  
“Buffy, I know…“ Angel began. 

  
Buffy spun towards him, fresh tears coming down her face, an unexpected outburst unstoppable now. “What do you know, Angel? What do you know? You left me! You left me alone here! I lost so many people. I lost my home! I almost lost Spike, which, I know there’s this really intense childish rivalry going on between you two always, but I swear if you roll your eyes at the mention of his name I will find a way to smack you!” Buffy looked up at the ceiling, willing herself not to see his scowl. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I screwed everything up at pretty much every turn and we were in it together to help him, to help the world, and then you left me!” 

  
A few moments passed, only hysterical sobs filling the room, sobs that she couldn’t control. Suddenly, her dream made sense to her. There was a lack of choice, yes. An insecurity that had always quietly been a part of her from the beginning of this path she had been forced onto. More than that, she couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t handle him, losing him, her world having fallen apart again. She couldn’t handle the weight of his death for a third time. Some part of her almost wanted him to be absent from her life and for everything to be the same, for her love to be that easily erased and ignored, and cut off from hurting. It wasn’t working. It didn’t work in dreamland. It wasn’t working right now, in her actual reality.

“My God, Angel! Don’t you get it! This whole thing, with you being here, this not ghost you, it has an expiration date before you move on. Before you leave me again and go wherever it is that not ghosts go!” Buffy shook her head, the tears not stopping, but her body calming as she looked him in the face. “How could you do this to me? How could you leave me? I need you, Angel. How can you leave me?”

  
Angel’s soft eyes stayed on her. All he wanted to do was grab hold of her and hold her in his arms, and make her pain go away. He moved forward, his hand lifting slowly, aiming to touch her. 

  
_Woosh_

  
His hand fell through her cheek.

  
Slowly, Angel let his hand fall to his side, the two of them staring at each other with shared sadness. 

  
“I haven’t left you again.” Angel quietly corrected.

  
Buffy’s green eyes turned baffled, unsure of what he meant. “What?”

  
“You said, ‘how can you leave me’, as if I was going to walk out that door and disappear. I haven’t left you again.” Angel quietly corrected once more. 

  
Buffy’s eyes filled up with tears again, a soft choke of words coming out. “But you will.”

  
“I won’t.” Angel stated firmly.

  
“You always do.” Buffy reminded him, the few tears falling down her cheeks. “You always have to.”  
  
***************************************************  
  
Angel made his way down the stairs and into the front lobby. The conversation that he had with Buffy only hours before was still fresh in his mind. It wasn’t exactly the type of reunion that he had in mind. Although, he knew that it would be emotional, he hadn’t seen the outburst Buffy had coming. She wasn’t the type that had too many of those. She kept herself guarded. The world had taught her that she needed to. It wasn’t lost on him that he had been one of the first teachers in that lesson. Perhaps he had been right all those years ago, leaving her after her graduation, but he had known that it would leave a mark on her. He had been leaving marks on her long before that. Angelus, The First playing with his mind leading to his suicide attempt, and of course there was the simple fact that he was a vampire and all the hardships that came along with it. It was arguable which lesson in her life of loss and disappointment had been the worst, but sadly Angel knew that he was at the very least among the worst. Still, after all this, there was still love between them. There always would be no matter what was to come of it. She was still cookie dough though. He didn’t know what the future held. 

  
He did need to talk to her though. He had come to her with a different purpose in mind than just getting a full report on how she felt about having him back. He had thought about going to her now, a few hours after his prior attempt, with the hope that she was in a better frame of mind to converse with him.

He knew that she wasn’t really mad at him. She was mad at the situations that kept knocking her down, forcing her to pick up the pieces, only to knock her down all over again. It thus broke his heart to have to deliver news of another person who had betrayed her. He couldn’t knock her down now with this latest piece of information that he had for her, no matter how interested she would be in it. Like it or not, she cared for the bleach blonde pest. She’d care to know who had hurt him. But it’d hurt her to realize that he had been under her nose the whole time, fought by her side even after the condition that he had put Spike in.

As much of a pain as Spike was to him, he wanted to see this guy pay.

  
Buffy was off limits, but when he approached the front desk and saw Willow sitting with a book in front of her, he realized he could, at the very least, get the information out.

  
Willow jumped a little when she looked up, Angel suddenly in front of her. “Oh. It’s just you.” She took a breath. “I’d say you’re a lot quieter now that you’re dead…deader,” she tilted her head to the side in question, “but you always had the ability to startle people when you walked into a room.” 

  
“I need to talk to you about something.” Angel stated, getting the point.

  
“Okay…”Willow put her book to the side as she stood up and came around from behind the desk. “What’s up?”

  
“It has to do with Spike.” Angel replied.

  
“This isn’t some weird jealousy thing over Buffy you have going on, is it? Because, I’m not so sure I can help you with that.” Willow explained.

  
“No.” Angel rolled his eyes. “It has nothing to do with that. It has to do with what happened to Spike.” Angel leaned in, speaking in a hushed tone, as if letting her in on a great secret. “I know who did it.”

  
“Wood.” Willow responded without missing a beat.

  
Angel paused, somewhat disappointed to not get a gasp or any kind of reaction at all really. He had been gone a long time. It made sense that Spike would have told them by now, but still, he had remained somewhat silent over it when Wood had been with them before. Granted, he couldn’t talk, but there were other ways he could have figured out how to communicate the truth to them. It seemed that whatever had been holding him back before was gone now. Had Wood died in the battle? That would explain it. So could Spike being back in his normal frame of mind. He wasn’t exactly afraid of anything, no matter what was done to him it seemed.

  
“So, he told everyone?” Angel questioned.

  
“No. Just me.” Willow explained further.

  
Now, Angel was really confused. Why would he tell Willow and not Buffy?  The confusion very clear on Angel’s face, Willow decided to jump in and help out with that. “He only told me recently. He’s been…he’s been having a hard time with what happened to him.”

  
“And Buffy doesn’t know? He only opened up to you about it?” Angel questioned.  
Willow knew that wasn’t actually his question. It did seem a little odd, Spike opening up to her and not the woman that he was in love with. If Angel had seen the way things had gone since they had gotten here, she was sure that it would make a lot more sense.

“Buffy has done her best with Spike. She really has, especially with everything else that she’s had to deal with. But it hasn’t always been easy with them.” She paused. 

  
“So that’s why he confided in you?” Angel paused. He didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t know how bad things had been, but it was hard to believe that Spike would confide in Willow before confiding in Buffy, given how strong his feelings for her were. He had to figure that this didn’t matter. It wasn’t the point. The point was Wood. The point was what he had done to his grand-childe. “So, where is he?”

  
“Spike?” Willow asked.

  
“No. Wood. What happened to him?” Angel asked. 

  
“He’s still at the hospital. He almost died in the battle. You can imagine that fighting that many vampires and bringers would make his hospital stay a lot longer than your average Slayer.” Willow explained.

  
Angel almost growled. The thought that he was still alive and nothing was being done about it! He was just going to walk free once he was released! He was not going to stand for that! Not after what he had done to Spike. No one deserved what Spike had been put through. He didn’t care what his past without a soul looked like. He didn’t care whose mother he had killed. It was his family, after all. He didn’t have to like his family members, but if they had a soul he’d be damn sure that he was going to protect them regardless. His and Spike’s messy relationship didn’t come into play when it came to that.

  
“How much longer is he going to be in the hospital?” Angel asked, trying not to look like he was out for blood, but failing miserably. 

  
Willow looked at him curiously; it all too clear that he was plotting in his mind. What could he really do? All Wood had to do was walk through him and he’d be safe. Right now, Willow was relieved that was true; otherwise, with the way Angel was looking, he might go against his “no killing human” rule just for this occasion. “He should be out soon, but, Angel, I don’t think there’ really a whole lot you can do about it.”

  
Angel looked down at himself for a moment, remembering. Damn. She was right. He was harmless. “So what? You’re just going to let him walk?”

  
“I can’t tell Buffy.” Willow began. She didn’t have time to explain further, because it was just then that a voice came from the stairway.

  
“You can’t tell Buffy what?” Buffy asked, taking a few slow steps forward, her arms folded as she joined in on their conversation.

  
“Oh. Hi, Buffy.” Willow greeted her awkwardly.

  
“Hi.” She greeted Willow flatly. “You can’t tell me what?” She followed up.

  
Willow shifted uncomfortably. “Buffy, I want to tell you. I do. But I don’t want to break Spike’s trust.”

  
“Spike?” Buffy raised both her eyebrows with intense surprise.

   
“Boy, this is really awkward.” Willow muttered under her breath. 

  
“Willow. What’s going on?” Buffy’s gaze was fixed on her. What could Spike have told her? He seemed okay today, but he had seemed okay in the past too, without that meaning much. What if what he had told Willow suggested otherwise? 

  
“I don’t want to break his trust. It’s really important that he has people that he can trust right now.” Willow pleaded. She didn’t know what to do. After all, she really did want to tell Buffy what was going on. She didn’t want Wood to walk free any more than Angel did. What could be done about it though? She didn’t know, but if anyone would be able to come up with a suitable solution for it then it would be Buffy, right? Spike didn’t see it that way. If he found that she had betrayed his trust, well, his mind was too fragile right now. She didn’t want him to close in on himself when he had made so much progress lately. 

  
“Willow, you have to tell me.” Buffy interrupted her thoughts. “I have to know what’s going on with him. If only to avoid the show that we got a few nights ago.”

  
“What show?” Angel asked confused.  


Buffy ignored him. “Willow, it’s the right thing to do.”  


Willow shook her head. “It’s not that black and white. I know you know that. Besides, it’s not about anything that he’s doing.”  


“Then what’s it about? What would he want to keep from me again if it’s not feelings?” Buffy questioned more confused than ever.  


Angel stared with the same confused look on his face. It sounded like he had missed a lot. Spike seemed to have become been emotionally stunted around Buffy for whatever reason, Willow had turned into his go to person, and there had been some kind of a show that he had put on? “Do you guys mean that he put on a literal show or was it more of an outburst that he had?” 

  
Buffy rolled her eyes. She so didn’t have time to play catch up with Angel right now. Like Spike would want her to anyway. “Willow, please, just tell me.”

  
Willow heard the desperate tone in Buffy’s voice. It was wrong to tell her. She knew it was wrong to tell her. It wasn’t her decision to decide if Wood got to walk or not. That was Spike’s choice if he was going to allow Buffy to come up with some sort of punishment for him, but at the same time… 

  
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Willow decided. “Not without breaking his trust. Even if he is doing better. It’s his right to decide who and who doesn’t get to know the details of, well, any part of his unlife actually.” Willow stated, standing her ground, even if it was somewhat shakily. She wanted Buffy to know, after all, there could be some kind of counsel punishment that Giles could make up, lock Wood away wherever they had planned on putting Faith. Something,  _anything_ , had to be better than nothing. It was nothing that was the only thing she really could bring to the table. 

  
“I can tell her.” Angel spoke up.   


Willow shook her head. “That would be breaking-“  


“No, it wouldn’t.” Angel cut her off, already knowing what she was doing to say. She had turned into a broken record at this point. “I had wanted to tell Buffy anyway. I already knew for myself. So, you’re not giving anything away.”  


Willow sighed. “I get that and I’m not being unappreciative when I say this, but you know Spike doesn’t want anyone else to know. “  


“Well, then that’s between me and Spike, isn’t it? It’s just one more thing to add to the long list he probably keeps, of reasons why he hates me.” Angel decided.   
  
“We know who hurt Spike.” He announced to Buffy.

  
Buffy’s eyes widened. “What? You know! How do you know? And…and how could he keep this from me!”   


“Wood did it to get revenge on Spike for what he did to his mother.” Angel furthered the explanation.  


Buffy’s eyes practically jumped out of her head. “Wood! After…after I warned him…and I fought…we fought with him! He did this to Spike and then he’d…he came to my house and he fought by our side! He was in the same house with Spike when he was recovering.” Buffy put her hand on the counter, steadying herself, as nausea overcame her. “How did I not think of this?”  


“Buffy there was no way you could have known. None of us knew.” Willow reassured her.   
“Wood. He tried to kill him once before, Willow. When Angel smelled a man down in the Initiative, I thought it could have been anyone. It couldn’t have been anyone. There was hardly anyone left in Sunnydale by that point. How did I not put it together?” Buffy spoke, her mind fuzzy and only becoming fuzzier as she tried to work this out in her head more and more.   


“Spike has a long list of enemies.” Willow tried to reassure her once more. “Besides, Wood worked with The First. That pretty much ruled out anyone fighting alongside you.”  
Buffy nodded. That was true. Wood had gone after the First as eagerly as any of them, so of course she didn’t put it together that it could be him that would do this. So, why did he work with The First? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t going to make sense unless she talked to the people that were involved. Clearly, Spike wasn’t an option. Not unless she was Willow, it seemed. 

  
Buffy chose to place this anger back on the current vampire in front of her instead. “So, you knew it was Wood.”  


Angel sighed, having been waiting for this. He had known Buffy too long to think that she wouldn’t demand an explanation for his silence. He also knew better than to believe that she would really accept his reasoning for it. “I figured it out when I first made contact with him. The scent matched. He knew I would be coming for him after the war. At least, I had planned to. But he knew that if I made it out of Sunnydale alive, I was coming for him next.”  


“Great. You threatened him. That doesn’t explain why you didn’t bother to tell me that one of my team members was closely associated with the exact thing we were fighting, not to mention, the small detail of what he had done to Spike!” Buffy practically shouted.  


Angel took a step forward. “Be quiet. Vampire hearing is sensitive, remember?” He pointed upstairs, in the direction where Spike were currently, hopefully, sleeping.  


“Fine.” Buffy responded with contempt. “But you didn’t answer my question.”  


It was more of a statement then a question, Angel’s inner voice told him, but he kept that comment to himself. “We needed every person that we could get for the war. He’s a good fighter. He was one of the better ones that we had until the Potentials were turned. We couldn’t afford to lose him.”

  
“Did it ever occur to you that he could have been working with The First even then? He could have done a lot more damage if it turned out that he had wanted more than just Spike.” Buffy spat.

  
“I knew that he didn’t. He was out solely for revenge on Spike. I kept an eye on Wood whenever he was around. It was fine. I had it under control.” Angel explained heatedly.   


“But why did you keep it from me?” Buffy threw her hands up in the air.

“The battle was coming down, fast, and you had enough on your mind already. I wouldn’t burden you with more “ 

  
Buffy looked down, unable to accept this. It was just so typical Angel, trying to shield her from information she really needed to have. She should have been told. She had fought side by side with the guy who had ripped organs out of Spike. She had fought side by side with the guy who had tortured him for a month, strapped to a table, slowly turning skeletal from so little blood to eat. Just the thought of being strapped to a table for a month was torture enough, but…she couldn’t think about the details. What did that say? Spike had to go through this for a month and it made her too sick just thinking about it. She had fought side by side with a man who was capable of doing acts that heinous. 

  
“You should have told me.” Buffy stated quietly before her eyes reached up, meeting Willow’s. “How could Spike keep this from me?”

  
“He wasn’t ready to tell you.” Willow put it simply.

  
“Seriously!” Buffy felt the anger starting to rise once more. “No offense, but he could tell you? He hid this from me! I understood him not being ready to talk about it, but when he’s finally ready…how could he exclude me from this? You don’t keep this stuff from your friends and from the people that you lov…” Buffy’s voice trailed off, all too aware that Angel was standing right there. Complicated, anyone? 

  
Willow sighed. “It’s not like that and honestly Buffy I think by now you should know that. I don’t mean to blunt, but I kind of have to be at this point. Whenever Spike doesn’t act the way that you think he’s going to in a situation you get mad at him. You lash out at him. Be it the pills he wouldn’t take or his suicide attempt, now, it’s with Wood. I’m sorry, Buffy, but him keeping Wood from you probably has a little something to do with the other incidents.”

  
“Spike tried to commit suicide?” Angel questioned, a deep hint of concern underneath what was meant to be a casual tone.

  
Willow and Buffy paid no mind, as Willow’s words started to hit her. “You’re right. God, I’m such an idiot!” Buffy looked up at the ceiling, an almost defeated tone taking over her voice. “I don’t know what’s with me. I have to earn the right for him to feel like he can confide in me.” Buffy looked at Willow with somewhat sadness to her. “Did he say why he feels like he can’t tell me?”

  
Willow thought back to the conversation for a moment before responding, “He doesn’t think there’s much that you can do about it anyway. Wood is human. There’s not much more that you can dish out other than a slap on the wrist. He just doesn’t want to deal with it. He was in a really deep depression when he told me this. Maybe he’ll come around. I’m sure he’ll start to see that you’re doing better with the support.”

  
Buffy nodded. “Yeah, so long as he doesn’t hear about my little outburst right now.”  
Willow smiled softly. “My lips are sealed.”

  
_Ring. Ring. Ring_  
  
Buffy went around the corner picking up the phone. “Angel investigations…uh-huh. Yes. Okay. Great! I’ll be by shortly.” Buffy hung up on the phone.

  
“Who was that?” Willow inquired. 

  
“The hospital. It seems that our final patient there is about to check out.” Buffy stated. 

  
“Wood is being released?” Willow looked surprised, talk about convenient timing. 

  
Buffy only nodded, a small smirk on her face as the wheels in her mind began to turn. “Please, let me handle this?”  


***************************************************  
  
Wood stood in the lobby of the hospital. He was surprised to hear that Buffy was coming to meet him on his way out. Hadn’t the vampire spoken up yet? Maybe, he had gotten really lucky, and Spike’s injuries had been too serious and he hadn’t been able to survive after all. He was still in pretty bad condition when the war had taken place. 

  
Buffy walked through the doors. She was smiling, looking like the peppy woman that he remembered. It hadn’t been easy, lying to her for the time that he had to. He liked her. If she didn’t know the truth, he couldn’t tell her, and he’d have to keep this charade up. In a way, it would be ideal, if Spike was dust and they could just move on. It was a secret that would hurt her less if she didn’t have to find out. She was the type of person that he could imagine having as his friend for life, if only Spike was out of the mix.

  
“You look much better.” Buffy smiled. “I’m sorry that I never got the chance to visit you. Things have been crazy at the hotel. There’s always another big bad right around the corner and we seemed to have come to a city that has its own big bad operation.” 

  
“I’m looking forward to that.” Wood responded sarcastically. “How is everyone?”

  
“They’re good.” Buffy smiled. “Xander is doing better. He’s still one with the crutches, but he’s moving around a lot better. Giles is in England with the potentials. Willow and Dawn and everyone are adjusting though. Of course, then there’s Spike.” Buffy’s smile tightened. “He’s back to his old self.”

  
Wood felt a chill go down his spine as he heard Buffy say that name. It wasn’t just that she said his name; it was how she said it, the tone, that smile. Of course, it was even the fact that she would bring him up. 

  
She knew.   


She had to know.   


His body stiffened. “That’s good. I’m glad everyone is adjusting. I can’t wait to get back into the mix.”  


Buffy felt the tension pass between them, but she didn’t mind. She wanted it there. She wanted him to know that she had put it there. “Great. We’re looking forward to having you back. You should come over right now. I’ll make some tea. We can talk.”

  
“Sounds great.” Wood replied easily.   
  
***************************************************  
  
Angel found that he was bracing himself before walking into Spike’s bedroom. He had heard things about Spike that worried him to no end and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. _Suicide. Depression. Vulnerability._  These weren’t words he usually associated Spike with. Boisterous. Obnoxious. Rowdy. These were the words, lively words, that brought Spike to mind. What Spike had gone through hadn’t been that long ago, He could see Spike lying in his arms, clear as night, disoriented and confused. They had seen a side of each other that rarely had surfaced before. An intense unveiled sensitivity. He had saved him from unimaginable amounts of torture, felt over it. So maybe it was the memory and realization, a true understanding of the depth of family he had felt, that gave him this strong urge to seek Spike out now. Or maybe it was just that Buffy was the one out to deal with Wood, and he couldn’t do anything for his grand-childe in that regard.

  
Slowly, walking through the door, he saw Spike immediately look up from the book he was reading.

   
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Got turned around?”

  
“No, I was looking for you.” Angel admitted.

  
Spike’s eyebrows went up, his curiosity only strengthening. “Yeah?” A slow smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. “Oh. I get it. This ‘bout Buffy, is it? Been away all this time. I’m the only vampire with a soul in her life, and you’re starting to notice it.”

  
“I didn’t come here to start something over Buffy.” Angel tried to steer clear of the prickly subject that got under both of their skins.   


Spike’s gaze spoke of disbelief but he didn’t voice it. “You’re bored then. Ghost got you down? Can’t fight, can’t shag, can’t be taken seriously. I mean, who would bother taking orders from a Casper?”

   
His gloating was obvious. Angel huffed, the urge to smack Spike over the head coming over him again. He would if he could. “God, you are just as annoying as you used to be. How you’ve gotten all these people to bother helping you out is beyond me.”  


“I’m quite charming.” Spike responded. “Good looking. Smart.”

  
Angel laughed. “You are a lot of things. Charming… Charming isn’t one of them.”

  
“I’m three dimensional.” Spike responded eagerly, not missing a beat. He hit himself in the center of his chest. “Real. Right here. You know, I’m actually useful.”  
  
“I saved the world, you know.” Angel retorted.

“You wore a necklace.” Spike snorted. “It did the job. You are not much of a world saver. Never have been.”

“I helped kill the mayor and, uh, and Jasmine and—“

“Do those really count as savin' the world?”

“I stopped Acathla. That saved the world.”

“Buffy ran you through with a sword.” Spike corrected him.

“Yeah, but I made her do it. I signaled her with my eyes.”

Spike was practically bouncing now. “She killed you. I helped her!” He pointed an eager finger at Angel. “That one counts as mine.”  
  
***************************************************  
  
The silence of the Hyperion filled Wood’s ears as he entered, the hotel that belonged to the  _other_  vampire with a soul. The quiet let him know that if anyone was around they weren’t close by. For a Slayer, Buffy sure seemed to make friends with a lot of the undead. He truly hoped that he was correctly informed that this particular one was dust.

Buffy turned back and explained to him that the others were out searching for an old foe of Angel’s, who had some new scheme going, so that he unfortunately couldn’t meet up with them right now. She filled him in, very carefully, on the chitchat of how each and every one of them were doing. She served tea and cookies, and skirted around the elephant in the room as deftly as she could, buying time, afraid that Wood would want to leave too early if things got too hot here.

Then finally, she was running out of other topics to cover, and other people to get him updated on, and decided to skip to the chase. “And then there is Spike. He survived, and is recovering nicely.” Her cold, challenging voice left no doubt that she knew everything, Their eyes found each other in a deep staring match, that she was the first to break.

“How could you do that? Day after day! How could you go in there and hack apart a man?”

  
“He isn’t a man, Buffy! That’s what you’re not seeing. There’s nothing human about him!” Wood insisted. 

  
Buffy shook her head. “There’s no point in explaining this to you, is there? I tried that already. I tried that the first time you pulled something like this. Spike aside, the type of person he is and isn’t, he was a warrior in that war. We needed him!”  


“Did we? We seemed to do just fine without him.” Wood pointed out.  


“That’s because we got lucky at the last minute and had a hand from Angel. Besides, you had no way of knowing whether things would or wouldn’t be okay, so the outcome is entirely besides the point. You risked the fate of the world for your own vendetta!” Buffy glared at him, sickened to look him in the face. Any kind of sympathy she once had for him and his position was gone, after what she had seen when walking down in that initiative lab, after nursing Spike back to health with the condition he had been in.

   
“I didn’t realize the whole world rested on one vampire’s back.” Wood spat.   


“We needed all the power we could get at that point and you know it.” Buffy retorted.  


“I did what you couldn’t do. You couldn’t see it. You still can’t. You have too big of a bias.” Wood explained.  
  
Buffy gave him a glare that shot daggers. “What I can’t see is how you could not only put him through what you put him through, but then could come to all the meetings that we held, how you could face me after pulling this through, and not feel anything over that.”

  
Wood sighed. “It’s not like it was easy for me to do that, Buffy. I didn’t like lying to you. I don’t have anything against you. In fact, I like you a lot. I respect what you do, but-“

  
Buffy’s fist clenched, it took all of her might to control herself. The force of self-control certainly showed in her voice. “No! Don’t you dare sit there and claim to respect me when you were doing something so vile behind my back! He felt everything that you did! He felt all the torture you put him through, breaking his bones, flaying him, cutting his lungs out.” She took a deep breath, and tried to fight down the gag reflex and find her voice again. “And you were even torturing him afterwards, when he was rescued. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to regrow organs? I can’t say for sure, but from what I was seeing, it didn’t look like he was having a picnic! But, I’m sure that just gets you off, doesn’t it?”

  
Wood glared at her now, his own temper starting to surface. “You know full well this wasn’t about my pleasure, or, getting off!”

  
“No, you didn’t enjoy it then? You had him down there for an awfully long time, keeping him under your thumb. Hell, you betrayed me to the point where you were working with The First, but then, I’m sure that was out of respect for me too!” 

  
Wood shook his head, having no argument against that last part. He had worked with The First. He had gone behind her back there and this time it had nothing to do with the fact that she was blind. It was just the only way that he could get to Spike. He couldn’t make her understand. Perhaps he had risked the world for his own vendetta after all. But would he go back and do it differently? Yes, but only in the sense that he would have killed Spike a little sooner. Not given in to that little soft spot inside that told him not to do it. No one would be the wiser of this and he would have fully gotten his revenge, no loose ends he’d have to take care of now. It was going to be a lot harder with Buffy watching him closely. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to work with The First. Believe me, it was only for Spike. I wasn’t on its’ side.”

  
“But you were. Don’t you see that? It clearly wanted something from you, though what that was exactly I don’t know. Maybe just to get Spike out of the game. But, you helped it. You were working with The First through and through. You’re as much a monster as you think Spike is.” Buffy folded her arms.

  
Wood swallowed, keeping his temper in check. “What, when a vampire kills someone you care about-“

  
Buffy held up her hand cutting him off once more. “I’ve had people I care about die before. I’ve had friends have people they care about be killed before. This isn’t how they deal. If they do go too far, they come back down to earth and they make it right. Guess what, sometimes those that do these crimes don’t have souls themselves and  _still_  this isn’t how we deal. We don’t seek revenge. We seek justice. What you did, going after a man that doesn’t exist anymore, and then taking him apart that way…” Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, reminding her stomach that it needed to stay down in the face of all of this. “…that was not justice. I think your mother would be ashamed.”

  
Wood eyes poured into her, anger taking over. “Don’t talk about my mother like you know her.”  


“You once said I reminded you of her. If that’s true, if she’s anything like me, she knew where to draw the line.” Buffy answered hotly. “What you did breaches that line.”

  
Wood’s angry gaze remained fixed on her, when he spoke, he did so through his teeth. How he kept his temper as calm as he did, though he was practically shaking, he’d never know. “There are no lines with monsters. They’re evil, and deserves only evilness in return.”

Clearly at an impasse, he got up, and gave her a stiff nod. “I’ll show myself out then.”

  
“That’d be best.” Buffy nodded.   


Wood made his way towards the door before turning around. They may be on irreparably bad terms now, but still, he respected her. “For what it’s worth. I am sorry. For going behind your back. We’ll never see eye to eye on Spike, but for betraying your trust, I’m sorry.”  


Buffy didn’t look his way. She didn’t acknowledge that he spoke. 

  
Wood watched her for a few more seconds and then made his way out.

  


Off in the shadows, Spike stood. It was right around the time that he always grabbed some blood out of the kitchen. This was when he had caught the tail end of Buffy’s conversation with Wood. He felt his anger growing more and more inside of him as they spoke. She was upset, of course she was, there was no question of that. But the way she had just let him go, it was exactly what he had expected. It was exactly why he had never bothered to tell her, though how she had found out in the first place he didn’t know. His mind jumped to Willow, it was the only explanation. She was the only one that he had told, in secret no less. He couldn’t think about that right now. His eyes starting turn a golden shade; he knew what needed to be done. Buffy might have been willing to let Wood go, but he was not.

  
***********************************************************************  
  
  
Spike eyed the darkened street before him, his eyes never leaving the back of The Principal’s head. He kept himself quiet as he followed along, lurking in the shadows, and from the way Wood walked, carelessly engrossed in his own thoughts, it seemed to Spike that he didn’t know he was being followed. Good. He didn’t want anything to tip him off. He just needed to put enough distance between them and the hotel that no one he knew might see this. He wasn’t interested in playing the same torture games that Wood had indulged in. This was his game now. By his rules. He smiled, a broad predatory smirk.  

Wood felt a presence coming up behind him, and then strong arms grabbed him from behind. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. _Spike._  He froze solid in fear, and cursed himself for being so preoccupied that he hadn’t paid attention to what was happening around him.

Wood banged his head back to knock off his attacker, and made use of the split second that bough him to turn around and face the enemy. “You. You’re back! Have you come to kill me?”

“Well, yeah, as promised.” the bloodsucker in front of him answered matter-of-factly, though making no further move to do so just then. He merely stared at him, in the way Wood imagined a cat staring at a particularly juicy mouse.

  
Wood quickly reached into his jacket, pulling a stake out. Spike reacted just as fast, taking him by the arm and swinging him on the ground. Wood immediately jumped up, going to throw a punch in Spike’s face, but Spike had his eyes already on it, ducking out of the way just in time. A moment later, he slammed his own fist forward, driving Wood back a few steps. “Now this! This is what a fair fight looks like. See, you even get to keep your weapon. Watch and learn.”

  
Wood jumped forward, kicking Spike back towards a nearby building. “You want to talk about a fair fight? How about we talk about me hiding off while you were fighting my mother in the pouring rain?”

  
Spike and Wood exchanged blows, ducking each other for a couple of hits, before Spike slammed one into Wood’s stomach, doubling him over. “I weren’t interested in you that night.”

  
“You would have eaten me if you had been given the chance.” Wood stood up, angrily.

“Well, yeah, not arguing with that.” Spike retorted. “Though it was mostly Dru who had a taste for children. Most likely, I’d give you to her instead.”

  
Wood jumped in the air, kicking Spike in the face, knocking him to the ground. “Spoken like a true vampire, through and through, the soul doesn’t matter.”

  
Spike stood up, wiping the blood from his face. “Well, that was then” he corrected him. “I don’t kill innocent people anymore. I don’t go huntin’ for snacks in the middle of the night. If I have a problem with an enemy, someone I have to take out, I make sure they’re conscious when I do it. And I don’t play everlasting games with ‘em later.”

  
More hits and kicks and punches. Wood reached down for the stake that had rolled away in the heat of it. “You’re awake now. So, there’s nothing unfair about what’s to go.” Wood charged Spike in that moment, the pointed edge of the stake headed right for his heart. 

  
Spike moved to the side in that moment, sticking his foot out, watching as Wood slammed into it, and sent him falling to the ground. Spike stomped on Wood’s hand that held the stake, putting all his weight into it, and heard the bone break beneath his shoe, Wood yelling out. “I really didn’t want to do the torture, but, have to be honest, not goin’ to lose sleep over causin’ you a lil pain either.”

  
Wood gazed up at him, trying to reach for the stake with his good hand once again.   
Spike quickly kicked it away. “Let’s not be hasty. Want to chat awhile. Tell me. What was your master plan?” Spike smirked. “How were you goin’ to get me this time?”

  
“I wasn’t going to do anything to you before you attacked me.” Wood looked up at him. “I just wanted to go find a hotel and go to bed. That’s it.”

  
“Believe me, you’ll be sleepin’ soon enough.” Spike grabbed Wood by his jacket, slamming him up against the nearest building.

   
Wood struggled against him, finding that it was no use, remembering how he hardly stood his own once Spike had been in his right mind during their first fight. It was how he knew he couldn’t take him on his own, not a vampire that age. It was the only reason why he had agreed to The First’s help. “Look, Spike, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I’m through. What I did to you, I lost touch with humanity, but we’re even. We’re more than even!”

  
“For your mother’s life. I don’t think so. This is comin’ from a bloke who love his mother more than anythin’. Nothin’ is even when it comes to that.” Spike paused. “And even if you really were through and even, I’m not.” he continued, with a malicious grin. “You could never win against me. Had to be bleedin’ tranquilized. Could have respected you a lil bit if you had at least defeated me on your own. Coward, that’s all you are.”

  
“I was being resourceful.” Wood glared. 

  
Spike laughed. “With the ultimate evil? Don’t think so. You’re not a warrior. You’re not fit to be on Buffy’s team. You’re pathetic. I may be a monster. You’re probably right ‘bout that, but I do the job on my own.” Spike shifted features. “Now, I’m goin’ to do that job on you.”  


“Spike! Wait“ Wood saw the monster in front of him tilt his head, and let his amber eyes peruse him, now all the more like a very interesting mouse to eat. “Buffy! She’d be very mad at you if finding out that you were killing humans again.”

“Sure.” Spike admitted. “But you’re not “humans” are you? You’re one little creep, who deserves to become dinner.” He licked his fangs visibly. “And besides, we’re a good many yards from the hotel now, and she made it pretty clear that she was not gonna miss you when you left. So, I’m thinking the odds that she’ll find out is pretty slim.” With that, he grabbed Wood into a death lock, and sank his fangs deep into his neck.

The feeling of finally getting to drink that blood was indescribable. It poured through his mouth as rich and full and tasty as he had ever imagined it. All those moments down in the labs, where fantasies of this was all that had kept him up and given him the strength to go on… now the moment had finally come, and he was devouring it with his whole self. Holding this worthless little human in a lethal embrace, and feeling the power surge, as the life force left his enemy, and filled him instead.  


He threw Wood’s drained corpse to the ground, and jumped back in shock. There Buffy stood, taking in the scene before her, with an expression that was hard to read. Spike felt himself panic. She wasn’t meant to see this. In fact, he hadn’t thought much about Buffy up until this moment. What had he planned on telling her? Despites what he cockily had told Wood, he couldn’t have kept something like this from her. It was one thing to hear about it, but it was another to see it with her own eyes. Wood was human. Spike knew that. He had a soul, in her eyes these weren’t the actions that he should have resorted to, no matter what had happened to him.

“He was goin’ to kill me.” Spike felt himself hastily explaining his side to her before she could speak. “If I hadn’t done this…he would have…he wasn’t goin’ to stop, Buffy. I wasn’t goin’ to be his bleedin’ victim again! I wasn’t goin’ to be strapped down while he did whatever first came to mind. You weren’t there! You might have seen what it looked like after, but you didn’t experience it! He needed to be stopped. It was my life or his. I chose mine.”

  
Buffy took a step towards him and looked him straight in the eyes. “I know.” She said. “You’re right.”

  
Spike eyed her in shock. Had she just said what he thought she said? “I am?” 

She nodded, and gave him a very warm smile, before she sent a cold look towards the corpse at their feet. “You know what I said to him, when we talked back in his garage in Sunnydale, after you had left?” Spike shook his head, and stared at her in wonder. “I said that if he ever tried something like that again, you would kill him. And more importantly, I would let you.”  


Buffy’s eyes softened as she looked his way. “I can’t lose you.” She stepped forward. There was enough loss. There were too many people that she needed who weren’t here anymore. She loved him. She had told him so. She wasn’t going to let anyone take him from her. He was safe. He was safe for good now and that’s what mattered. 

  
Spike looked down, how could she feel that way? He had blood in his mouth, Wood’s blood, human blood. His mind couldn’t wrap itself around how she was down with that. She couldn’t be. Not really.

  
As if reading his mind, Buffy tilted his chin up with her hand, coming closer to him. She stared into his stormy blue eyes for a moment before leaning into him, gently placing a kiss on his lips. Within seconds, he returned it, the kiss going from gentle and smooth to powerful and deep. And lasting for a long time.


	17. Watched

  
Buffy woke up with a sinking feeling in her stomach. The choice, the  _only_  choice to make had been clear to her the night before. This didn’t mean she had come upon the decision to allow Wood’s life to be taken easily. Even so, Wood had known his fate if he pursued Spike, and, by doing so, he had signed his own death certificate.   
  
It wasn’t that simple.   
  
No, of course it wasn’t. Death never could be anything less than complicated, but Wood wasn’t going to stop until either he or Spike was dead. This was the only simple truth that was a part of this situation. In the end, what Spike had done equaled to a sort of pre-emptive form of self-defense, if such a thing existed. After all, what Wood had inflicted on him down in the initiative was his second attempt at taking Spike’s life. There’d be a third, a fourth, a fifth, and so on, assuming Spike didn’t end it immediately after the third, which, Buffy was fairly certain he would, assuming it even got that far.   
  
When it had been a time of war, she couldn’t have this fight between Wood and Spike disrupting everyone. There was no room for revenge. Now, the war was over, the rules had changed. Yet, in this case, all it meant was that her reasons had changed, so she stood by her promise.

  
It had made sense to her last night.  
  
In the morning, reality felt heavier. There was a responsibility placed on her shoulders she knew she should have expected. In a way, she had. She had told herself quietly that she wouldn’t think of it; she wouldn’t dwell. She’d simply go about her days feeling maybe even relief for Spike. Justice was done…no. She knew that wasn’t true.  _“I am the law.”_  This was more of a Faith belief, not to speak ill of the dead.   
  
Was it really for her to have decided if Wood should die? If Spike had done it on his own, well, that would have been better. She could have forgiven him, it was a promise that she had made. Again, with the pre-emptive self-defense. In this case, the case of reality, she had delivered Wood on a silver platter.  _Stupid reality._  
  
Last night it had to happen. This mess had to be dealt with before Wood had a chance to wrap up loose ends. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder…Had she briefly lost her humanity? If only for a moment? And if she had…what did that mean?  
  
Of course, she couldn’t keep this from everyone. They expected to see Wood even if he didn’t plan to stick around. After what they had all been through together, it’d be strange for him to never stop by. Strange or not, she didn’t want to lie to her friends. She had done this in the past and for good reason. God knows, they weren’t ready for Angel to be back in their lives after the Angelus incident. Whether just or not, her current situation was a far cry from the last time she was in a similar predicament. She had let a man’s life be taken. She had to face that. She owed it to them, to herself, and even Wood. She didn’t owe him much, but the truth about his death, well, everyone at least deserved that small courtesy.   
  
***************************************************  
Her friends were surprisingly quiet. Buffy had expected something of an uproar when the truth got out. Instead, everyone appeared rather speechless and the silence was, as it turned out, eerie. She could handle yelling and challenging of her choice. After all, her own mind was giving her enough of a debate on the matter, but silence…she hadn’t thought to prepare for silence.

  
“He would have kept coming for Spike.” Buffy furthered her explanation.

  
“I’m fairly certain a vampire can do well enough defending himself against a human.” Wesley stated somewhat bitterly. 

  
“Oh, really? Because the last time I checked he had been held against his will and brutally tortured for a month.” Buffy snapped.

  
“The First had a hand in that…” Willow gently reminded her.

  
Buffy sighed. “I’m aware of that. So? What? Spike constantly has to fight Wood off till he gets a new Big Bad best friend and then dusts him?”

  
“How do you know he would do that again?” Wesley questioned.

  
“How can we know that he wouldn’t? I think doing it once is enough to assume he’s capable of doing it a second time.” Buffy glared. “He did it with  _The First_. It doesn’t get any worse than the almighty bad to be cozying up next to. Maybe he snapped. I’d say he did given the choices he made. Okay, so maybe with the finding sanity again he wouldn’t make those choices a second time. But, I think all of us have seen by now that once you go down that dark path, it’s only easier to do it again.” Buffy paused. “Some of us might have experienced that for themselves.”  
  
“Okay, I get your point.” Gunn spoke up. “I don’t know this guy. You’ll get no argument from me that what he did wasn’t sick, but…he’s human. We don’t decide what humans die. We find another way.”

  
“What other way was there? Tell me. What else could we have done? Called the police? Have a courtroom involved, get a trial over what Wood did, but suggest that it’s a night court on account of the vampire survivor we have testifying.” Buffy retorted sarcastically.  
  
“We could have apprehended him ourselves.” Willow suggested. “The council, when there was one, didn’t they have prisons?”

  
“Had.” Buffy pointed out. “That’s all gone. By the time we established some system ourselves, God only knows what would have happened with Wood.”

  
“Could of, would of, should of isn’t going to make a difference.” Xander sighed.

  
“He’s right.” Fred agreed. “We don’t know, for sure, how any alternate choice could have gone.”

  
“Fine. So what does this all mean then?” Gunn inquired. “Dude took a human life.”

  
“No. He took his perpetrator’s life. There’s a difference.” Buffy clarified.   
¨

“Who was a human.” Gunn started firmly.  


“Whoa. What’s going on here? I could feel all this tension from the street.” Lorne made his way down the entrance steps.   


“Spike killed a human.” Gunn spat.  


“It was his torturer.” Buffy expressed exasperated.  


Lorne shifted awkwardly. Why did he even ask? It was never anything lighthearted enough around here that you could chalk up to sexual tension. “Well, I came over as soon as I heard about Angelcakes. Lazarus rises from the dead…” Lorne laughed somewhat good naturedly. 

  
Gunn and Buffy continued their glaring contest. 

  
Lorne changed his tone. “I see I was late to the celebration then.” He then muttered as he made his way across the side of the room, “Someone should have told me I’d need a sea breeze for this.”

  
“Buffy, we’re just concerned that, maybe, you’re letting feelings you have for Spike cloud your judgment.” Willow hesitantly stated.

  
“Did someone invite Giles into this conversation? Cause I thought he was still in England.” Buffy lifted an eyebrow.

  
“No.” Willow sounded disappointed. “And he was wrong about it then. Then. But now. Now. You let someone die.”

  
“Is that not registering with you? It’s a bit alarming that the vampire slayer doesn’t seem to feel anything over that.” Gunn declared intensely.

  
“Hey!” Xander yelled out. “Don’t talk to her like that as if you know her. You don’t know the heart this woman has in her!”

  
Buffy gave Xander an appreciative smile before fixing her angry gaze on Gunn. This was the final straw. She knew the anger was something that she had coming after what she had done the night before. She understood there would be bucket loads of contempt, but what he had just said, that crossed the line. “Don’t you dare tell me what I do and don’t feel. You have no idea what’s going on in my head. Just because I don’t wear my feelings for everyone to see doesn’t mean I don’t have any! But it doesn’t change the fact of why I did what I did last night. I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t expect you to agree. I’m not playing judge, jury, and execution here. I just-“

  
“Really?” Gunn interjected. “You’re not? Because it seems to be that, that’s exactly what you did.”

  
Buffy took a breath, collecting her thoughts carefully before answering. “This was an exception. One exception.”  


“Yeah? Well, someone once said to me that once you go down a dark path, it’s easier to do it a second time.”   


Gunn’s statement hung in the air, silence completely taking over the room. The weight of Buffy’s own words reflecting too strongly back on her.   


The ringing of the phone.  


A second ring.  


Buffy moved behind the desk, picking it up on its third.   


“Hello.” Buffy made her voice sound casual. “Oh…Great. Right…Right, well, we can’t wait to see you…Okay. Bye.”  


Buffy stared out at everyone.  


“Who was it?” Willow asked.  


“Giles” Buffy responded quietly. “He’s coming to town.”  


***************************************************  
  
Spike hadn't wanted to enter the fray of the lobby as they were discussing his handling of Wood as if it had been some kind of regular vampire attack that the Slayer should've been obligated to stop. What was the point? How could anyone hope to ever successfully reason with such morons who would take such a stance? Blessed be his dear Goldilocks for at least trying, though. She was absolutely right of course. Taking that monster out had been a necessity, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that it had felt damn good as well. To conquer his fears from down there in the caves, to take back control, to show that little, insignificant twit of a human who the real power player among them was. One more enemy down. The latest in a long line of creatures who had challenged him and come to regret it. It still held, what he had known to be true all these years, that no one could keep him down for long! His ambitions from the time locked up on that table down at the Initiative labs had come true. He was elatedly satisfied.  
  
But of course, being Spike, he couldn't expect to keep his happiness for a long time. Giles was coming back! He did not like that. Not in the least bit. The last time Giles was there he had worked with Wood, then apparently called in the Council to keep up the torture that Wood had going in their own way. And when that failed, explicitly asked Buffy to stake him twice in one day. Why did he have to come back now, now that things were finally starting to work out a little better here? He quit eavesdropping, and turned up the stairs.  
  
Angel stood by the stairway, arms folded, a scowl on his face. Spike figured Angel suspected that he was coming over to make another ghost comment, give him a hard time again. As appealing as the thought sounded, and as difficult as it normally was for him to resist, now wasn’t the time. He wasn't in the mood. But hey, Angel was a vampire too, and one with a reputedly poor relationship with Giles. Maybe he'd understand? Or maybe not. Some times he felt like he didn't even know Angel anymore. with his soul now, and even working with a watcher himself. How on earth did that come about?  
  
Spike stood by him silently for a few moments. He felt Angel’s eyes fall on him at once, but as soon as they were there, they were gone. It was just as well, Angel not prompting him for an explanation as to why he was standing here of all places and next to him of all people. He wasn’t sure how to say it to him yet. He just needed him to understand. They were both vampires. He had to get it. “Watchers” he said with a sigh. “How’d you come to work with Wesley?” Spike forced a nonchalant tone, though the fact that he’d show interest in something like this already had to have tipped his hand.  
  
Angel shrugged as though he didn’t suspect a thing. “We…Cordelia and I…just stumbled upon him. Did a case together and then he joined up.”  


Spike nodded. It sounded innocent enough. Maybe it was. Probably wasn’t. Angel had to have some suspicions and hesitations working with someone who had once been under the black and white thinking of the council. He was a vampire. He should know it.   
  
“Why?” Angel asked, giving Spike the invitation to follow his question up. He was a bit curious, he had to admit. He hadn’t seen Spike and Wesley interact once after all. Spike’s interest in him seemed a bit random. Honestly, he was bored too. A non-ghost meant all he could do was watch, having someone to talk to would give something to do, even if that someone was Spike.

  
“Just found it interestin’ is all. A vampire workin’ with a watcher.” Spike commented.   
“You worked with Giles.” Angel pointed out.

  
“Yeah, but I made him pay me.” Spike snorted. “For a while. Anyway, you see how well that turned out. Bloke teamed up with Wood to try and do me in.”

  
Angel turned toward him, a feeling of bitter anger rising. “Giles was in on what happened to you?” How had he never heard about this before? Did this come out when he had been dust? Did the others know?

  
“Not…not the last time. Before that. Wood tried dustin’ me. Just fightin’. Straight up. I was stupid enough to let him go afterwards. Giles distracted Buffy when it was goin’ on.” Spike explained. He didn’t want to relate his suspicions about the Council, and Giles’ possible involvement there. He didn’t want Angel to get too involved in this. He could take care of his own nasty business, without ending up owing his pouncy grand sire any debt of gratitude.  


He still had a need for a good rant though. "And now he's coming back. Can't say that pleases me one bit. Buggering Watcher. I'm sick of him. Sick of the lot of them.   
  
Angel furred his brow. So, this was the true nature of Spike’s questioning, the reason for him swaggering over in the first place. There was tension rolling off him and if Giles had been part of a recent attack, with Wood of all people, it made sense that he’d be suspicious now.   
  
Paranoid even.   
  
“They’re still people. Give them enough reason and they come around. Especially when you have a soul.” Angel explained. "They have their own way of reasoning, but they usually mean well. When Giles was distracting Buffy, I can imagine he might have had some notion that he was doing it for her own good, because it's not good for her to have beloved vampires around?" Spike scowled at him, and Angel nodded knowingly. "It will pass. They have their rigid views of right and wrong, but watchers can change, and forego these notions if you just get the stick out of their ass" Spike gave him a highly doubtful glare. "It's true! You asked me about Wesley, and how we got together. Now, before that, while he was Buffy’s Watcher, we had this difference of opinion on how to handle a problem with Faith, which ended up with him calling in a whole team of council guys, to come at me all at once and lock me up in a net on the floor. Very unpleasant. But now, Wes is among my loyal friends." He looked into Spike's disturbed face after this story and smiled. "Giles will get there eventually he too. He might just need a little more work."   
  
***************************************************  
It hadn’t been too long since he had stood in the foyer of the Hyperion Hotel. Only then he had been on his way out rather than coming in. And saying goodbye to Buffy. Now he couldn’t wait to see her. He needed to be more involved. He couldn’t drop the ball the way he had when making the last poor choice to leave. This time leaving couldn’t be avoided. It had to be done. This new world of Slayers needed to have structure. Systems were what made the world go round. He was a friend of organization and though creating something this grand-scale from what felt like scratch, after all the last council model didn’t have much in the way of ideals he wanted to salvage, was a trying feat. It would be worth it in the end. This was what he kept telling himself. With the amount of Slayers that needed training, and the new, more active role, watchers needed to take, he knew it to be the truth. A harsh truth given those it kept him from, but the truth nevertheless. Still, he had made a promise to himself to keep a closer eye on how  _his_  slayer was doing from now on, and it was a promise he intended to honor.  
  
Regardless of the circumstance, and how none too long ago his last departure had been, he was still greeted with enthusiasm and warmth. Buffy smiled up at him, “Welcome back! It’s so good to have you home again.”  
  
“I must say, I feel more at home with all you then I do in my own home town at this point.” Giles smiled somewhat amused.

  
“But I’m sure you miss England. All the other Gileses getting together. Talking about those Bloody Americans butchering the Queen’s English.” Willow added in a chipper manner.

“Quite.” Giles agreed. “Give me a few minutes with you all and I’m sure I’ll be ready to purchase my return ticket at once.”

  
“So, how is England? How’s your newest Giles doing? Andrew giving you a migraine yet?” Buffy inquired amused.

  
“Several.” Giles admitted. “But he’s actually showing some…some real promise.”   


Buffy snorted in disbelief. “No.”

  
“No. It’s true. He’s very…very enthusiastic.” Giles commented choosing his words carefully.

  
“Well, that’s not hard to believe.” Willow added.

  
“Yes. Well. He’s eager to learn. Maybe a little too eager. But, the girls get along with him. They’re trusting him. Something of a similar age group, I’m sure.” Giles explained.

   
“I doubt you came to give us an update on Andrew.” Buffy smirked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but last time you came into town there was another apocalypse.”

  
Giles smirked. “It’s nothing like that this time. I just came in, because I had some free time. I wanted to check in.”  


Buffy seemed surprised by that news, pleasantly so. A new and improved Giles? She knew given her choices of friends and lovers it wasn’t always smooth sailing with him. It probably wouldn’t be while he was in town, but he was here, apparently in her corner. He was Giles and she was always glad to see him, no matter what storm was bound to come of it.

  
And…speaking of storms…Buffy eyed Hurricane Angel as he floated out of his office.   
He stood behind the desk overseeing the scene before him, making no movement to come any closer. He wasn’t afraid. He was more dead than usual. Still, it seemed as though he was testing the waters, probably out of respect before diving in. 

  
Then, there was Spike, who Buffy noticed seemed to not be anywhere around. Buffy figured he couldn’t be bothered with the likes of Giles. Talk about your two opposite vampire personalities…

  
“Angel.” Giles noted. He figured it would have come off rather childish had he not made an acknowledgement. He had sacrificed himself for the sake of the world after all, and was now miraculously back.

  
“Giles.” Angel responded, moving from around the counter now, but not walking too close. Vampires weren’t Giles’ favorite thing. He had known that already. He had gotten another taste of it when his tortured grand-childe had lain cradled in his arms. Yet, he knew he held a great bit of responsibility for this disdain that rolled off the civilized man. So, he was patient with him.  
  
“Well, I suppose the world owes a bit of debt to you. For what you did.” Giles tried to speak in a light tone.   
  
 _Tried._  
  
It came out forced, but the effort was noted. 

  
Angel waved it off. “It’s what I do.”

  
“Yes. So I’ve heard.” Giles commented. “So, I hear you all have your own latest troubles you’ve taken on.”

  
“Lindsay worked for Wolfram  & Hart. Or maybe not. Probably not. Agenda against Angel anyhow. And so on. We’re trying to find him.” Buffy quickly explained. She knew the minute she mentioned Angel’s name she’d lose Giles interest.  
  
She wasn’t wrong.   
  
“I see. I see.” Giles eyes glazed over a bit, clearly not there anymore, lost in thought. “Well, if I can help.”

  
Buffy simply nodded. “We’ll let you know. Well, if you want to get settled, no one has taken your old room.”

  
“Splendid.” Giles grabbed his suitcase. “I’ll just get unpacked then.”  
  
***************************************************  
  
The excitement of Giles return had died down. The hotel usual quiet nature had taken over once again, which was surprising for how many people were now living here. Everyone had things to do, jobs to take care of. When they weren’t working they were out or off in their own rooms, or Xander was lurking about with a petition to turn part of the lounge into a game room.  
  
For Spike, he remained tense and lurking. The story Angel had told him about Wesley was haunting him. He had called in the council, and had Angel captured alive. It matched pretty well with the impression he had had of him when they had interacted. His technical interest in his soul, the way he looked at him as an interesting speciemen rather than a person, the very fact that he was brought up in the Council system, with the very guys who had made it very clear that they didn't mind at all what he had gone through down in the caves, and would like to repeat it if they could. He felt his whole body speed up at the thought. How easy it would be for Wesley to make another such call to them, tell them to come and pick him up, and lock him down in some sterile operating room, where they would keep him alive forever, just to see how many ways they could find to torment him.  
  
He made his way down to the lobby, his antsy legs not allowing him to remain still for too long. He thought about going for a walk outside, but then, the last time he had stepped outside when no one seemed to be around, he hadn’t gotten back inside the house for a month. Well, actually, not the last time. The last time he had ended Wood’s life…so… perhaps going out for a walk wasn't such a bad idea after all?  
  
Spike stopped in his tracks, Wesley rounding his way around the counter, opening his book before him. He had set up shop, studying whatever bollocks to fill the night, much preferred to actually having a life apparently. So, Spike kept an eye on him from the stairs, wary of what to do. Especially when Wesley took up a phone and dialed a number. He felt his whole system tense up at the sight.

 _That’s it!_ He strode forward and stood over the Watcher, asking pointedly "who are you calling?" Wesley looked up in surprise, not having noticed that someone was coming. "Oh, hey Spike. It's just some people back in England. Giles asked me to check up on them, how their Council work is going now that he's here." _Nooo!!!_ Spike could feel his fangs coming forth without even making a conscious effort for it. His eyes flashed amber, and he dived forward, making a grab for the phone in Wesley's hand. "What the hell..." Wesley looked back, in a completely baffled way, and tried to pull back his hand. Spike held on to it, twisted it around, and up Wesley's back, so forcefully that he could hear the phone clinking to the floor, a loud, bone-breaking, crack of the arm, and a piercing scream. He didn't care. He was caught up in the moment, and felt the old, familiar bloodrush cursing through him, like an electric current. "Oh no, you don't" he sneered at Wesley, who was trying to weasel his way out of his grip. He twisted his neck into position, and went at it, drinking deep.  
  
And then, when he was just starting to feel his foe go limp and pale in his grip, and were just starting to feel the taste of victory, he froze up. There was this shockwave going though him, and then he couldn't move a muscle. As deeply buried in Wesley's neck as he was, it was hard to see what was going on. But he could smell Willow right behind him. Bugger! A spell then. And now the others were coming too. whole bunch of them, to watch the show. Just like them.   
  
“We need to call an ambulance!” He heard Buffy’s voice.   
  
“Already on it!” Willow’s own voice filled the air.   
  
Spike snarled inside. Buffy had allowed for justice once before. Surprising him. Now, it seemed she had shifted gears yet again. He never could fully come to predict her. He could understand her better than she used to care for, but predict her, that was an entirely different animal.  
  
“What the blood hell is going on down here?” Giles’ angry, booming voice sounded. His eyes of fury than laid on the scene: Wesley standing rigid on the floor, locked in Spike’s grip, with his fangs deep into his neck. Giles immediately went for the weapon’s cabinet. He had been good about her nursing him back to health. He had been good about seeing Angel back here, her life crawling with vampires, but this was too far. When vampires act like vampires there’s only one way to respond.   
  
“Giles don’t!” Buffy’s voice called out.  
  
Giles stopped short of reaching for a weapon, settling for taking the rigid Spike &Wesley package down to the floor, and starting to make attempts at getting them disentangled. He glanced down at Spike, his amber eyes glaring at him, and Giles, for a moment, was sure that he was being stared at with primal animosity.   
  
Then, for Spike, things went black. Buffy stood over him, knocking her boot against his head, putting him out as she had done once before when The First had taken control over him.   
  
***************************************************  
  
"Good idea" Willow smiled approvingly at Buffy. "I would have to lift the spell soon anyway, since it makes him so rigid it would be difficult to pry him apart from Wesley." Give it to Willow, to always have the pragmatic, matter-of-fact view on every situation. Herself, Buffy wasn't quite there yet. She watched from a place somewhat besides herself, while the others got Wesley free of Spike's grip, and helped him to the door to wait for the ambulance.   
  
Several pairs of eyes fixed accusingly on Buffy. Giles, surprisingly, and then not surprisingly at all, appeared the most angered by the latest events. Gunn had known Wesley for years. He had worked with him, probably risking their lives for each other on more than one occasion. But Wesley was also a fellow Watcher. One of Giles’s own.

“I knew this was going to happen.” Gunn started off what Buffy was sure would only be their latest battle.  
  
Buffy didn’t respond to it though. Could she have a defense? Wood was one thing, nothing to be proud of, but that was a complicated situation. Wesley…he had nothing to do with this.  _Why Wesley?_

  
“You let a dog off its leash and it’s not just going to stop at chasing one puppy.” Gunn continued.   
  
“He’s not an animal.” Buffy stated evenly.  
  
“Oh no? Because the bite marks in my friend’s neck say otherwise!” Gunn yelled.   
  
“Alright! Enough!” Giles put his hands up, catching the shouting match before it really began. “Now. I think it’s clear what needs to be done.”  
  
“There’s nothing clear about this situation!” Buffy spoke more aggressively. They were all tired, all worn down from this endless rollercoaster they couldn’t seem to get off. Maybe it was a carousel, around and around it goes, or a Ferris Wheel, up and down and up and down. Regardless, she was nauseous, tired, and just wanted this mess to go away. They all did. Still, when it mattered, regardless of how they were feeling, they suddenly found the nonexistent energy to fight one another, keeping these carnival rides from ever ending.   
  
“Buffy, I’m worried. “Giles stated with surprising calm. “I’m worried about you. Especially after you just recently allowed for a human life to be taken.” “Old news, Giles.” Buffy stated more short tempered than she liked, but how many times did she have to rehash this? She had never wanted Giles to learn about the Woo debacle in the first place. But of course someone had to tell him. “Well, it has reached a rather new level of relevance now, hasn't it?" Giles replied crisply, giving a pointed stare to the lump of defeated vampire on the floor.  
  
There was another life at stake here too. She had to stand her ground, for Spike’s sake. "Yes, what he has done to Wesley is horrible. It's vampiric. But he's not just another vampire any more. He's got a soul now. That makes him one of us. And when one of us go down the dark side, we don't kill them. We try to fix the problem." She gave the gang a pleading look, from one to the other. Willow was the one to step forward.  
  
"She's right, you know. Remember when I tried to kill you all last summer? It could’ve ended the world, but you still went for only necessary fights and containment and not killing. Spike has been through a lot..." "and proven himself as a dangerous, bloodthirsty demon!" Gunn interjected. "He's gone off the bend. No doubt." Willow answered him calmly. "But then we need to get him unbended." Buffy looked at her best friend with warm gratitude.   
  
Giles took in the whole scene, felt his slayer's pain, and decided to yield once more. "Ok, so no vampire slaying, at this point. We give "project redemption" one more chance. But he's in a way too unbalanced state of mind to be walking around the hotel at this point. Xander, you can set up a secure chain, like you did in Buffy's basement, the last time we had the rouge Spike problem, right?" "Yeah" Xander muttered, after having kept an unusual low profile for the rest of this debacle. "Not that the one I set up then was very secure, but..." "No!!" Buffy yelled. "I know it's not unreasonable, but no, we can't do it that way. That is the root cause of his unbalance. He was chained to a torture table for a month. And in a cave with the First for like two weeks shortly before that. Plus, as Xander pointed out, the chains he made was not secure enough to keep the Bringers from abducting him, only to keep him from efficiently fighting them. Chains may have been a good option before, but I don't think it is anymore. It would only increase his paranoia and make him more dangerous in the future."   
  
She could feel the others about to unleash a torrent of protests again, but luckily, Willow came to her aid this time too. "I might know a spell that might solve this. The freeze spell has too short expiration time to be any good here, but I'm thinking I could try to twirk the vampire barrier spell, so that it, instead of keeping a vampire from entering a home, can keep him from exiting instead. And then we'd set it up in one of the rooms here, and keep him in there for a while, with no retraumatizing chains involved.” Buffy could've hugged her right then and there. The others mumbled their grumbling consent. Though, she suspected, probably because they were too tired to argue any more.   
  
Dawn had stood frozen through this whole situation playing out. She saw the others move around her like in a dream. A bad dream. She struggled to make sense to the scene in front of her. Spike in game face, and his fangs deep into Wesley. Why?? Why Wes? She knew Spike had a lot going on with him lately, probably too much on his mind to keep track of it, but it had to be pretty bad for him to go back into his old unsouled ways of attacking an innocent. And she couldn't think of any sensible scenario where Wes should have had cause to provoke Spike into it either. It seemed so out of the blue. Her head hurt. She had finally dared to believe that Spike was good again, like she had allowed herself to believe when she was younger. She had allowed herself to like him again. Was that misguided? Were the warnings she had received so many of over the years still valid? Was he still dangerous?  
  
"Hmm" Willow mused. "The spell draws energy from the exclusivity of a home. Though in this case, we might want to use the inclusiveness and attraction of home instead. So we should use the most homey, and warmly shared, room in the hotel." "We can use mine." Buffy offered. "I've been stockpiling pillows and decorating it so much lately that it should be homier than most. And" she smiled sorely, "I want him to be there so deeply that that ought to fuel the spell all on it's own, right?" "It should" Willow smiled back at her. So, they carried Spike into her bed, careful not to stir him, Willow reluctant to use another freeze spell, since it would drain her too much for her to be able to set up the barrier properly afterwards. Then Willow went to work on her revised spell, and put the barrier up. Though she conceded to Buffy, now that they were alone, that she wasn't all certain about this, since she had never done the spell this way before, and a hotel room, how homey it might be, still wasn't a proper home, and thus might not give the same fuel to the spell as the threshold to a real home would.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy stood in the hallway outside of Spike’s room, the spell performed, as Spike woke up and learned what they had done. She had expected him to bang against the invisible barrier, which he had done, and curse at them all in British, which he had also done. Still, it was only for a few moments. He had gone silent fast, a look of betrayal on his face as he gazed at her, and that look had stayed with her. It only grew stronger and stronger with every passing second. She hadn’t been the one to rip out a chunk of an innocent man’s neck! Yet, she was the one who betrayed him? How dare he give her a look like that! After everything she had done for him! Okay, so maybe she hadn’t been perfect in helping him, but she had tried, and she had been there for him above and beyond what anyone else would ever be willing to do! No, he had betrayed her! In doing what he had done. He had betrayed her!  
  
Within a moment, she pushed through the open door angrily, her emerald eyes shooting death rays at him. Spike stared at her from where he had begun pacing.   
  
“What were you thinking?” Buffy inquired with an angry shout.  
  
“What was I thinkin’? What are you thinkin’?” Spike snapped back. “You were supposed to be on my side!”  
  
“Yeah, I’m on your side when you’re not killing innocent people.” Buffy continued to shout. “Wesley had nothing to do with this! He hadn’t even met you before you came here!”  
  
“Don’t you see-“  
  
“You know what! I don’t see.” Buffy interjected. She wasn’t going to listen to him prattle on. They had killed someone. Spike might have done the deed, but they were both in on that together. They were both equally responsible and for what? So he could go and do it again? To someone who had no connection to this whatsoever? “You can’t just go around biting people, because you feel like it! You can’t just go around biting people, because you think there’s some reason to do it. You didn’t even talk to me! You just acted! You acted without a care in the world and you still don’t get it! You still think it’s okay! What you did! When you could have killed him! You’re acting…you’re acting like nothing more than a vampire!”  
  
“I bloody well am a vampire!” Spike yelled.  
  
Damn her! If only Buffy's reactions had been easy to predict, his unlife would be so much easier. She had stood by him so stunningly much lately. Watched him like a hawk to make sure he didn't kill himself, even arranged for and approved of his killing of Wood. And now, she was on the side of those who wanted him dead, or worse? Or, obeying them, at the very least. Yeah, he knew what he had done weren't nice, but he had hoped she would at least listen to him, seen his side of things. Too much to ask apparently.   
  
She said to stay there, that the door was magically sealed and that he would not be accepted outside until the others could trust him again. Then she left. He wanted to obey her. He really did. Wait till she had calmed down and was ready to listen, talk, hope to make things up with her again. To make her see. But it was that thing she had said that the door was magically sealed. He walked up to it, touched it, and felt the familiar barrier of a house he was not invited into - and a rising surge of panic. The walls of the room were closing in on him. He was trapped, dizzy - and suddenly back on the Initiative table, chained up, exposed, tortured. He started sweating and shaking, his head swam, he couldn't breathe. He had to get out of there!   
  
He threw himself at the barrier with all the desperation of a drowning man. Felt it out for weaknesses, aimed at the weakest spots, throwing all his might into it. And got out. Tumbled through the hallway and ended up flat on his stomach, panting heavily and feeling his head clear up a little. It was Giles' fault. All of this. It had to be. Giles had had it in for him ever since Sunnydale. Buffy had grown more and more supportive in his absence, but now that he was back ... He couldn't allow this to continue. He had decided only recently that he actually wanted to live through this debacle. If he really were gonna live, it seemed Giles could not.


	18. Listen to me!

  
There was no time to think anything through. There was only action and as Spike continued to make his way down the hallway, he felt the urgency pushing at him in his stomach. He felt the sinking sensation that reminded him that missing this shot was not an option. A sizzle of wired energy went through him, the full clear focus of building up to a big fight, the rush of adrenaline. Those jolts of it, that rarely failed him when it really mattered. He felt fit, focused and ready. The Slayer of Slayers was back.

He didn’t fancy the thought of murdering people, though it was hard to be apologetic for it too when they were trying to do the very same thing to him. You had to protect yourself in this world, because if you didn’t you wound up strapped down to a table. You wound up having your lungs ripped out right in front of you! You wound being studied by a group of supernatural scholars. Over his dusty body that was going to happen! Still, the Scoobies and Angel’s Avengers were on to him now, knew he was after blood. Of course, it seemed they figured that it could be anyone of them that was good for the taking, but he had no desire to go after the rest of them. Why would he? In fairness, they couldn’t see what Wesley was doing. He came off just as innocent as the lot of them. Sodding fools, they were.  
  
He needed to reach Giles without the lot of them spotting him, as they seemed to be hanging about. He had showed his hand before. He had allowed himself to lose himself in the moment, in the blood, and what should have been the defeat of his foe. He should have sensed that the others were coming. He had buggered up, what else was new? His plans usually were about 50/50 for that reason. He got ahead of himself, jumped too far ahead too soon, and didn’t pace himself. He had abilities. He had skills that he had picked up over the years, so he figured he needed to actually use them this time. He could sense the team all around, going about their day, with great tension, but they were going about it as best they could. He knew there was discomfort due to his presence and what he had done to both Wesley and Wood. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out, but even so they tried to be good little soldiers and carry on just the way they always did.   
  
Regardless, good soldiers or not, they would be on the lookout for him. They’d be waiting for something to happen, which was why he needed to be extra careful with every move he made.

  
“I’m fairly sure that I left that volume downstairs, but I’ll check to see if it’s in my bedroom.” Fred’s voice rang out.  
  
Spike quickly turned and ducked down the hallway. It was only a few moments later that he heard her moving across the floor before opening the door to her room. It was when he heard the click of the door shut that he began to make his way down the hallway once more. As he rounded another corner, and nearing more stairs, he heard Fred comment a ways off, back in her room, “I must be losing my mind. I don’t remember leaving this here.”  
  
He shook his head and began moving up the stairs now. Who needs an alarm system when he had ears like his, and that wasn’t the only incident that the natural devices that he had been given proved useful. Based off the scents that was all around him, he could tell that Gunn was in the elevator, so it was better to avoid that area altogether. He could also tell that Dawn had just been up here, but had suddenly turned and made her way in the opposite direction. As he took a few more steps forward, he noted that Gunn was now off the elevator and back on the first floor, but, even so, Spike figured the elevators were a good idea to continue to keep away from.   
  
It didn’t matter now anyway. He was where he needed to be, outside The Watcher’s room. The bloke hadn’t bothered to shut his door and Spike could only smirk at the vulnerability that Giles had put himself in. It made it easier, though a knock on the door, and then avoidance of the peephole would have been easy enough to gain entry into his room, but this sped the inevitable up so much more.   
  
Spike slowly opened the door up a bit more, deciding not to do a dramatic entrance, given that he didn’t fancy acquiring the attention of the others around him. They were far enough off for now, and, to get this job down, that’s how they needed to stay. They had a nasty habit of joining forces together and saving the day at the last minute. He wasn’t going to have any of that this time.   
  
The door clicked closed as Giles turned back, folding his arms at the sight of the vampire entering his room. Even troubled, or angry, the bloke always seemed to have a controlled way about him. Spike didn’t know that peaceful was the right word for him, but if one were to use such a word to describe the man’s overall tone, they would also have to point out the fact that this was merely a rouse Giles had. The mate was no more peaceful than anyone else. There was a darkness in him, an edge, and though there were lines that a person of good was never supposed to cross, with just how controlled Giles seemed to be, he could figure that The Watcher had crossed them a time or two.   


“You shouldn’t be in here.” Giles stated calmly.   
  
Spike didn’t speak, but continued to glare his way, studying his foe the way a predator takes in their prey before initiating an attack. 

  
Giles placed his hands in his pockets and shared the gaze for only a moment before looking off for a second. “Buffy is trying very hard to save your life.”  
  
Spike’s lips curled into a smirk, but he didn’t speak. He took a step forward, not wanting to waste any time. He had his target within sight, there was no one around, and old Rupert here might be able to do well enough in a fight, but Spike wasn’t an ordinary vampire, now was he? He was too old for this chap. Too strong now. Giles should have thought about that before he agreed on signing Spike up as his science fair project.   
  
“You are going to want to take a step back now.” Giles warned. 

  
“I won’t allow you to take me.” Spike’s eyes gleamed yellow and his fangs came out as he shifted. He quickly got down on the ground, upended the chair he used and sweeping Giles legs out from underneath him while clamping down on top of him.  
  
Giles didn’t have time to respond to the strange statement that the vampire had made, but he also didn’t allow for this moment of being taken off guard to be enough to throw him completely. He lifted his leg up, flailing wildly with it, failing to land any kick, but succeeding at creating a distraction, while he pulled a cross out of his pocket, trying to keep him down with the holy weapon.  
  
Spike let out a laugh when he felt the burn come from the cross, neither bothered or put off by the tool. He had long since overcome his fear of a little burning, and, since when didn’t a punk rocker get off of on pain? He lifted his hand up, grabbing hold of the cross, ignoring the sizzling that came from it. He ripped it out of Giles hand, much to his surprise, and threw it clear across the room. He grabbed Giles by the neck, standing up himself now, and pressed Giles to the wall behind him. He lifted his hands up, ready to snap his neck, and end this nightmare once and for all.

  
Spike gazed down, seeing Giles hand reaching to the side of him, but whatever it was that he was trying to grab at was very much out of his reach. It was when Spike looked back, that he felt Giles head crash against his own, dizzying him for a moment, as Giles had got himself free. 

  
A ferocious growl came from his throat as he silently cursed at himself for letting his victim go free due to a second of careless distraction. He didn’t have a moment to waste. He was done playing games, but Giles there only seemed to be just getting started. He threw a punch towards Spike, but his efforts were met with a laugh. Of course, this reaction only fueled Giles further, throwing another punch his way and getting his leg up, kneeing Spike in the stomach.   
  
Spike wasn’t too put off from these moves. He growled once more, showing his threatening fangs while doing so. Did Giles really think he was going to be able to fight him and subdue him all the way to England? Perhaps he was going to take a page out of Wood’s book and cheat by bringing a tranquilizer along for the ride. That’s what it was going to take; he figured it, being knocked out completely to get him there. So, Spike tried for the sweeping motion once again, but Giles saw it coming, jumping out of the way. Spike knew he had given Giles a bit of an opening with his distraction moments before.   
  
With newfound aggression, Spike popped back up, sending his fist flying into Giles face. He felt the glass of Giles’ glasses shatter against The Watcher’s face, the feeling of it ripping against his knuckles. Small scratches formed around Giles eyes, and Spike used the opportunity to knee Giles once more in the abdomen, bringing him down on the bed. It was his turn to be on top this time. Spike grabbed hold of Giles head, once more, ready to snap it clean, when suddenly, everything stopped.  
  
Giles had reached over, grabbed the small bowl of ingredients from under his pillow, and thrown it on the attacking vampire’s back, while channeling his full energy into it. A potion made ready to go, Giles having figured it to be useful to arm himself against Spike if he were to get out. Right now, he figured his paranoid idea a very good one indeed. Of course, for the moment, he was stuck in the vampire’s clutches instead, with his head in a rather uncomfortable position.   
  
“Ah. Hello. Can…Can someone help me?” Giles awkwardly called out.  
A scream can be heard a long way in a house full of anxious people. Soon they were all gathered in Giles' bedroom, taking in the spectacle before them.  
  
"Eh, ok." Xander said, taking charge, as he could see nobody else was going to. "Willow, you keep an eye on the spell, see that it holds. Everybody else: Operation rescue." He and Gunn moved up towards the tangled vampire and watcher on the bed, while Buffy and Dawn stood back, and beheld the scene before them in stunned passivity. They turned the pair around, to get Giles on top, and pried and prodded until they were able to get enough distance between Spike's fingers to extricate Giles from his grip.   
  
Then they all stood in a circle on the floor, studying the frozen vampire in their midst. Giles grimaced and rubbed his sore neck, before setting his eyes into Buffy. "You know what this means, right? I have every sympathy with you not wanting to retraumatize Spike, after how long he was locked down. But I unfortunately believe that my neck cannot take much more trauma than this either. We need to know that we're safe in our own house - everyone. There's no other option."   
  
Xander gave the whole scene a pensive gaze and nodded. "I really think it isn't. I'll go get the chains, and my equipment."  
  
Buffy looked from Giles, to Spike, and back again, going completely rigid. Willow followed her gaze with a deeply concerned mien, and stuttered "I'm so sorry! This is all my fault. I should've built a stronger barrier. I should've been around more to check it's strength, I ... shouldn't have let it come to this!"   
  
"No." Buffy told her, softening a little bit, and taking Willow's hands. "You did all you could. I'm very grateful for it. And you did warn me that the spell most likely would be unstable. If anything, it is my fault, for insisting that we'd try it anyway.   
  
The guys carried Spike off to his room, Willow and Buffy, still holding hands, left together in the opposite direction. Dawn remained standing on the same spot, staring emptily into the now empty room, and trying frantically to sort out the ramifications of what had just happened.  
  
***************************************************  
  
“We have a kitchen the size of at least two rooms, and, yet, we order Chinese food.” Buffy mused.   
  
“You’re not about to go all Mrs. Brady on us and try to make a home cooked meal, are you?” Dawn snorted.  
  
Buffy looked towards the vast amount of people hanging out at the reception counter and shook her head. “For all of you people? No way.”  
  
As the team began to dig into the pile of boxes containing their dinner, Fred quietly made her way around the corner. Buffy caught sight of the entrance of where she came from, the hardly used kitchen that she had just been talking about only moments before. She knew she couldn’t have a normal dinner. Spike was still very much in the back of her mind, the thought of him chained up there like some wild animal ate away at her appetite enough as it was. There was nothing else that could be done, not for now anyway. She needed to power through, keep her strength about. Still, the fact that Fred was coming from that direction raised questions, and, in the pit of her stomach, she had a feeling that it meant more problems.   
  
Fred caught Buffy’s questioning look as she reached for some food herself with a casual shrug. “Spike didn’t feel like eating as it turned out. I guess I’m not surprised, given, well, everything.” She paused reflectively for a moment before shuddering a little as she spoke. “He was kind of in a mood too.”  
  
Gunn, who was gently reaching around Fred, couldn’t help but overhear the conversation that was being had. He looked at her with concern, and, clear, lack of patience for the bleach blonde menace who seemed to be terrorizing everyone that came into his path. “What do you mean he was in a mood? He didn’t try to hurt you, did he?”  
  
“Well, maybe my feelings a little.” Fred stated lightly before recognizing the tension that was rolling off him. “It’s not a big deal. He was just a little snippy. I’m fine.”  
  
“It is a big deal!” Gunn put his food down, the room going silent at the sound of a fight about to break out.   
  
“Hey.” Xander stepped forward, trying to stop this before it really started. “Just take a breath. We know Spike isn’t exactly himself right now.”  
  
“I’m really starting to think that Spike is himself.” Gunn shook his head, completely unable to grasp why still there were people in this room who didn’t seem to understand what Spike was and just how he was going to remain. “I’ve done a bit of reading of my own since he’s started to show this side of himself. I may be good in a fight, but I can read a book too. He’s not exactly someone I’d like to fight side by side with in an alley.”  
  
Buffy glared his way. “Did you read up on Angel’s past too? Because if Spike is William the Bloody then Angel sure as hell would have to be Angelus.” A pained expression masked with anger flashed across of her face, “And I know for a fact what the difference between a souled and a soulless vampire looks like.”  
  
“No, you think you do. You’ve made it real cut and dry in your head. I wouldn’t normally hold that against you, but you’ve got to lead. You’ve got people you have to look out for, a world that you’ve got to look out for, and your eyes are blinded by this…vampire.” Gunn spat the last words out. “I respect Angel. I, too, know the difference between him and Angelus. I know the soul really actually helps in his case. Spike, I’m starting to think is just a bad guy no matter what condition he’s in.”

  
“That’s not fair.” Xander chimed in.  
  
“He’s been through a lot.” Buffy spoke through gritted teeth. “You try being tortured for a month and we’ll see how sane you are once you come out of it.”  
  
“But, he’s attacking people, Buffy.” Dawn spoke up with slight hysteria in her voice. “He nearly killed both Wes and Giles. This violent streak in him just doesn’t seem to end, no matter what’s going on with him!” 

Everyone’s eyes set on the younger Summers. Buffy’s shot daggers. But Gunn nodded approvingly. And Giles looked almost proud of her.

She calmed down a little, and confronted her sister with icy determination. “We need to do what it takes to make sure no one else gets hurt. He’s not the only one that matters”  
  
Dawn knew he wasn’t a monster, but he acted like a monster. His fangs and hands were as deadly now as they had been when he didn’t have a soul. She knew he had been through a lot, and really felt for the wrought up emotional state that he was in, but this was also a common trait in him. When he was feeling out of shape, someone else all too often got to suffer from it. It only made sense that it was that way before the soul. She still remembered all too well the last incident that happened before he went to get it. He had hurt her sister! Real, badly. And she had always, in some secret well locked own, place in her mind, wondered if that was partly her fault. She had been down to see him, to tell him how hurt Buffy was by him sleeping with Anya, and imply that she wanted him back. She hadn't taken into consideration how that may be interpreted in a twisted, vampiric way.

  
He had a soul now though. He thought like a human, had a normal moral mind frame. She knew that, but... He was hurting now, too. What if the soul didn’t make enough of a difference? Once again, violence seemed to be his answer to mounting problems. She didn't know what to think of this.   
  
In either case: her voice had been heard. She was real in this group. She was starting to wonder if they had privately declared her Eternal Wallflower. Now she could see everyone's eyes directed at her. Nodded approval from Giles and Gunn, shock and frustration from Xander - and Buffy.  
  
Yes, Dawn knew that these weren’t words Buffy wanted to hear. Would Buffy hear her anyway? Would anyone hear her if she just went along like her sister's mouthpiece in this? She was more like a fly on the wall of a room just watching everything happen around her. She was no more than a casual observer these past few months. Correction! Past few years! She felt herself slowly disappearing, being pulled under a pit of quicksand that wasn’t working so fast. She needed to scream out that she was an adult, a real individual, with sway, and valid input! What did it take to be seen as a living, breathing person who worked hard for this group and deserved equal membership that the others seemed automatically granted?   
  
Dawn suspected that now Buffy would have no other choice but to hear her, because she had gone and done one of the more forbidden acts in Buffy’s book of late. She had spoken against Spike. She had broken the golden rule and it would most likely force Buffy to finally recognize that she was there. And if her input and reasoning on this matter could contribute to allow her to finally be taken into serious consideration as a valued member of the Scoobies among the other faction of the gang, then that was an added bonus. This was her chance to stick to her guns, keep her chin up, and prove herself.  
  
“Thank you!” Gunn sighed with slight relief, interrupting Dawn’s thoughts. “Someone who has their head on their shoulders.”  
  
“I am afraid that they’re right, Buffy.” Giles sighed exasperated. “Obviously, before his soul, he was a problem. But even after, we have heard of him murdering people, now; he’s attacking people in this hotel. It’s time we stop arguing this and start doing something about it.”  
  
Buffy turned around, disbelief across her features as it filled more and more with fury. “You can’t honestly be holding when The First turned him into its puppet against him, are you? He was hardly responsible for what happened when they placed a trigger in him.”  
  
“I know it doesn’t seem fair-“ Giles began.  
  
“That’s because it’s not.” Xander interrupted.   
  
“The First may very well not have been his fault.” Giles continued. “His fragile state of mind may very well not be his fault either, but there is always a reason for such behavior. Meanwhile, while everyone is too busy taking care of him, people are losing their lives.”  
  
“So, the fact that people keep victimizing him suddenly means nothing.” Buffy folded her arms. “It’s the victim’s fault. That’s what you’re saying, because, what? Their pain is an inconvenience to you? It’d be easier to just not have them around? That way you’re not put out?”  
  
“I’m not saying that. I don’t appreciate the insinuation.” Giles responded more evenly.  
  
“Are you sure? Because I don’t admire your staying power as a trauma therapist. You were quick to run away when I was brought back from the dead. Take off to England when I was in pain. Yeah, that’s a real good time to have someone stand on their own.” Buffy found herself surprised by her own words, anger that she had felt when he had left, but simply shoved to the side as time went on. She hadn’t forgotten, but it was a pain she seemed to have subconsciously ignored. Now, with this pattern he seemed to had taken up, all was being revealed, even to herself.  
  
Giles stepped back as though he had been slapped. “One does not have anything to do with the other. I was trying to do the best thing by you.”  
  
Buffy put her hands up. “This isn’t about that. Not completely. It’s what you do, lately.  You take the easy way.”  
  
“I am trying to put the greater good ahead of everything else, because that’s what people in our position have to do. That is not always an easy thing to do.” Giles stated all too knowingly. “We do things we’re not proud of. We make sacrifices, because sometimes there is no other choice.”  
  
“He’s one of us.” Xander stated. “I’ve had my issues with him over the years, even after he had a soul, but…I lived with the guy…I saw him…I saw him do the work that everyone else was doing to help Buffy, to help us, and to help the world. Vampire, or not, he’s one of us now. He went to great lengths to achieve that, when he went and actually sought out a soul. That makes him worthy of some consideration. We’re no better or worse than him. And…we don’t kill our own.” Xander paused. “And I know that’s what you’re suggesting.”  
  
“He’s not one of us. He’s nowhere near one of us.” Gunn shook his head. “From the time he’s been here he’s been nothing but violent in one way or another.”  
  
“Tortured for a month.” Xander repeated Buffy’s notion from before. “What if it was anyone else, who wasn’t a vampire? Would you suggest just taking a gun to their head?”  
  
“Let’s just cut right through the crap. He’s a vampire. He’s less than human to you three, that’s what this is.” Buffy stated outright.  
  
Was that what Buffy really thought? Dawn felt a lot of things right now towards Spike, but the last thing she thought was that he was less. She didn’t have to question herself, she didn’t think Spike was less. This was still her friend that she was talking against. This was the man that had taken a number of beatings for her. This was the man who had taken care of her, been there for her when tragedy struck so many times while everyone else left her behind. Was she leaving him the dust now? She had turned to him so many times for comfort, for company, and he had given it to her despite his demon.  
  
He was her friend, that was the thing of it. He was her friend and she was speaking against him. Right now, when he was going through a really hard time, was really out of shape, and needed her help. The very thought made her feel like utter crap. How was she going to live with herself for doing it?   
  
She was just going to have to find a way to be able to, even if it never felt right. It was too late to back down now. She finally had everything she had been longing for for so long. She had Buffy's full attention, she had a support group, she had a voice in the gang. The fact that she had it all for the wrong reason would just have to be.  
  
“Buffy-“ Dawn tried to speak out as her features softened, but the sternness in her voice remained as she tried staring her sister down.  
  
“Don’t, Dawn. If you think we can just kill him, when we wouldn’t kill ‘one of our own’, you clearly think vampires are less. It’s a prejudice. You all are prejudiced against someone with a soul, because they don’t match your kind.”  
  
“We’ve argued this already. We can keep arguing it till we’re blue in the face. It’s different with a vampire. It just is! He’s got extra strength to him, extra everything to him that a human doesn’t have.” Gunn kept going when he saw Buffy’s mouth open for a protest, interjecting over her. “And I know what you’re going to say, because you’ve said it before, and you’re right, we wouldn’t kill you if you were the one who had gone mad. But you don’t have a demon buried deep down inside of you like he does. That’s the difference whether you see it or not. It’s not the same as you.”  
  
“It is the same. His demon isn’t in control.” Buffy practically shouted. They were willing to twist and twist this, ignore the facts, just because they were so hell bent on being right, on hating on every vampire but Angel, well, at least Gunn anyway. It was amazing how everyone could witness the same incident, have the same facts, but the room would be split right in the middle. To her, it showed the open minded and the closed minded, or, the forgiving and those who needed to be consumed with bitterness for whatever reason. The unfortunate part of all of this was seeing her sister’s own bitterness surface out of the blue. Her own sister had not only turned on her, but on Spike who had gone above and beyond for her on several occasions. She didn’t know how that sat with her yet. She could hardly think straight with shouting match that had been taken up yet again.  
  
“His demon seemed like it was bloody well in control when he tried to kill me!” Giles shouted.  
  
Giles voice ringing out interrupted Buffy’s thoughts, causing her to take a step backwards when an angle she had been overlooking hit her right in the face. “Giles…” Her voice trailed off.  
  
“I see that it’s okay for my life to be taken, the lives of others to be in danger, just so long as we do the politically correct thing by making sure we’re not being prejudiced against the fanged killer.” Giles glared at her. “The people you love, who have backed you up for years, put their lives in harm’s way to help you out, apparently they can be sacrificed.”  
  
Buffy tensed up at his hurtful words. How could he think she was seeing things so black and white? She realized, in that moment, she could have worded things a bit better, taken their side into a bit more consideration without becoming so defensive, but it was a difficult balancing act to do. She could feel Spike’s life on the line; she could feel him slipping between her fingers. She had to get through to them, but clearly this was not the way. Was it too late for any other approach? “Of course, I don’t believe that. You know I don’t believe that.” She paused. “It’s not okay what he did to you. I didn’t fight anyone on restraining him after that happened. I want everyone safe and I’m sorry if it looked as though I didn’t care. I do care. I care very much, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to give up on someone else that I care about. It doesn’t mean that everyone should overlook what he’s been through either.”   
  
“Your care for him is getting in the way of your judgment. You’ve only proven that time and time again since you’ve gotten here.” Gunn pointed out.   
  
“And since we’ve been in Sunnydale.” Dawn spat.  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, trying to remember this balancing act she needed to do, if she was ever going to be able to get through to any of them. “Dawn, you cared for him just as much as I did at one time. Even, even after he got back from being taken by Wood. You made up with him. You saw that he changed.”   
  
“I thought he had. I was wrong.” Dawn folded her arms.   
  
“He’s been traumatized.” Buffy reasoned, though in her head she was screaming,  _how many times do I have to say that?_  
  
“Now, he’s traumatizing everyone else. My God, Buffy, can’t you see. He’s tearing everyone apart. He’s tearing this group apart. We keep letting him. Something has to be done.” Dawn shouted.   
  
Buffy nodded. “Something does need to be done. He’s restrained. It’s a temporary solution, but we need to find the right way to help him.”  
  
“He’s clearly in distress. Mentally. I don’t think that’s permanent. Not if he’s given the right help.” Xander expanded on Buffy’s point.   
  
“There are no vampire psychologists. So, I fear, it could very well be permanent. How long do we live in danger before that is determined?” Giles inquired.   
  
“I say, we don’t.” Gunn reached into his pocket, taking out a stake. “I say we end it now. Quick and clean. He’s out of misery and we’re out of danger.”   
  
Buffy’s eyes widened, stepping in front of him. “Don’t you dare go near him with that!”  
  
“I’m not putting my friends at risk any longer. I already got one in the hospital. Who knows what he would have done to Fred before had he not been restrained!” Gunn shouted.  
  
“Well, he didn’t seem threatening, just, well, he was just a little snippy. I don’t think there anything to worry about, honest.” Fred weakly attempted to make the situation better, though she knew it was already way out of hand.  
  
“That’s only because he was restrained. He knew he couldn’t make a go at you, but I’ll be damned if I take the chance on what might happen if he figures out how to get free again.” Gunn stated firmly.  
  
“Put the stake away.” Buffy spoke through gritted teeth.  
  
“No.” Gunn responded stubbornly.  
  
Buffy put her hands on her hips. “I dare you…no…I dare the whole room to try to get past me and up to Spike.” She took a step forward, almost casually, “Go ahead. Try and get by me.”  
  
The room was silent for a moment, eyes on Gunn, watching what he might do next. Slowly, he put his stake to the side and shook his head.   
  
“He’s really got you brainwashed, doesn’t he?”  
  
Buffy shook her head, “You don’t know the first thing about me. Stop pretending you do. You keep wasting your breath as if you know my life, my relationship with him, but you don’t know me. You don’t know him for that matter. You’re so wrapped up in your bias that you’d rather live there than make a well informed decision based on real fact.”   
  
Gunn laughed. “You act like you know me. I work for a vampire. I’ve faced Angelus and I had him in a cage. I could have shot a wooden arrow through his heart when no one was looking if I wanted to, but I didn’t. There was a chance to get Angel back, so I cared enough to take that chance. But, Spike, he’s gone. He’s doing this with a soul. He’s not coming back. That’s the fact.”  
  
“I’m going to really enjoy proving you wrong.” Buffy smirked.   
  
“Well, it appears that we still remain in a standstill.” Giles pointed out.  
The room remained silent, dinner forgotten, tensions continuing to rise, and the knowledge that if Buffy blinked Spike could be gone.  
  
"Clearly, tensions are running high. We don't want to make a fight out of this. Xander, I presume you locked him up well and proper, so that the chances of Spike escaping is rather slim?"   
  
"Sure" Xander verified. "Locks and bolts of that calibre ought to be enough to keep down a Fyarl. And they're well tightened."  
  
"Then we have some time. Let’s settle this at some point when we are a little less upset, and hopefully thinking a little clearer, all of us. "  
  
"Won't change anything" Gunn grumbled. "Maybe not." Giles conceded. "But Buffy insisted on a chance to prove you wrong. I say we'll give her one. A little more time. No decisive action this week at least. Ok?"   
  
"Ok" Gunn accepted, giving Buffy his stake, and a challenging look along with it. "Next week!"  
***************************************************  
  
Buffy ran down the hallway, and stumbled into a vacant hotel guest room pretty much at random. She made sure to close the door properly, and pushed a dresser in front of it, before she sank down on the bed in the center of the room and succumbed to the pressure, finally allowing her throat to get sore and tight, her hair undone and her eyes puffy.   
  
She tried to decide who of them she was most angry at. Not Gunn. She barely knew him. She couldn't call his attitude a betrayal.   
  
Dawn! A much better candidate. She was her sister, dammit! Wouldn't she care? Hadn't she learnt what they did - and  _not_  did when things got rough, and one member of the gang tried to kill the others? There was no excuse for her! It seemed that turning her back on those that used to matter to her was becoming her favorite pastime. First her own sister and now Spike, God, what was wrong with her lately? Was this some sort of weird rebellious stage that was coming out in such a violate, and now, dangerous way to those around her, because a teenage Scooby can’t have a normal rebellious stage? Why couldn’t she just go out and get a tattoo or a piercing or something? Maybe write some dark, angry poetry? Instead, she had to join up with “Team Staking” for the win. She thought Spike was out of control. No! She was out of control. They both were out of control… _but_  Spike had a reason. She felt a pang of guilt go through her. She had coddled Dawn too much, but not coddled her enough. Her sister has seen too much, but maybe not seen enough to understand. Still, there were basic rules, values that the group shared that Dawn knew. Like, say, you don’t form an alliance against one of the group members. You just don’t! Her sister, she feared, had become too good at that. Buffy found herself curling up into fetal position, suddenly sorely wishing she was young and innocent again, and snuggled up against Mr. Gordo. Dawn desperately wished herself older and with more say, and Buffy just wanted to be young and free once again.  
  
So yeah, she was still mad at Dawn for this. Giles? Maybe. But she noticed in some cold and weary place in her heart that she had kind of expected something like this from him by now. She knew he cared about her, and always meant well with what he did, but he did have a cynical way of solving problems some times. It was just part of who he was. And really, he had just that same day been attempted murdered himself. The Slayer could find perfect logic in how he'd want to send the vampire who attacked him off. Buffy, however, could not.   
  
And thinking about it,  _that_ was what made her the maddest. That they still considered staking an option in this. That members of her own gang could ever consider this as just another, true enough a lot more tragic, case of vampire slaying. It so sure as hell was not! How could they not see that? Spike was in a lot of pain, and terrified. She had failed him. She had tried her darnest to help him out, and barely even managed to keep him from dusting himself. And now when that seemed to be at least somewhat kept at bay, she had to start keeping the others from doing it? What a mess!! She grunted, and beat the pillow, and sobbed her eyes out, relieved that no one could see her right then.  
  
"You're crying"   
  
Buffy jumped, and spun around. "Do you have to sneak up on people like that?? And didn't you notice the door was locked?" Angel smiled self-consciously. "I don't really have a need for doors." "Well, it's common courtesy" Buffy pouted.   
  
He sat down on the bed and indicated for her to get back down with him. "So, what's the latest development in our crisis in progress?" Buffy chuckled a little, sat down and filled him in. He listened attentively, nodded, and looked at her in warm concern as she relayed the events of the recently concluded dinner gathering. "... so, there you got it. Can you see... what's gotten into them?! I mean, this should be handleable, right? It's just your average problem where one member in the gang goes ballistic and the others find a good way to sort them out. I bet your gang has had a few of those too, right?" Angel chuckled, and nodded grimly.   
  
“You're right." he grumbled. "Spike can be a real pain some times, and god only knows how many times I've wanted to kill him over the years, but to seriously consider it..." He growled. "That's just not gonna happen! He's got a soul.  _And_ going through a really hard time. I think normally they would get it. But the guys here have been a pretty tight gang for a while now; we have all lost someone already, and are terrified of losing anyone new. A "ticking bomb" problem inside the gang is, I guess, the last thing people feel up to handling right now. We're all hurting. We're all tired of it. We've all got frayed nerves."   
  
He looked over at her, and saw her tense up and scowl at him. "What's with all this understanding? I let you stay here to be on my side".   
  
"I am on your side. I'm trying to help.” He admitted, somewhat begrudgingly on the person of topic, but it was true nevertheless. “But the first step to solving any problem is understanding it". He added with a knowing smile.  
  
“Understand this. They’ve openly admitted they’re reacting this way and treating Spike differently because he’s a vampire. Because they can.” Buffy spoke, shedding more light on the situation.  
  
"I think they’re using that as an excuse, because they’re afraid of more loss. It gives them support to act on this fear.” Angel spoke reasonably before sighing with slight exasperation. Spike never failed to give him a “Spike shaped” headache, but even he knew it was a necessary evil to handle this. Someone besides Buffy had to be looking out for the pain, someone who could actually bring perspective that would be heard. “Don't worry. I'll handle this. We all need to get together and sort this out in a more organized manner. I'm gonna call a meeting, and set some ground rules in place for how this whole extended gang is to operate together. This matter needs to be dealt with in a civilized way, before the whole gang shatters from it. Nobody wants that!"  
  
“We seem to be half way there already" Buffy mused gloomily. "Are you sure another talk is gonna do anything about it? I seem to remember it was all too much talking that happening down there right now.”  
  
"Well, let's give it a shot, shall we?" Angel insisted. "Like you said, this isn't our first crisis. I know my gang. I think I might be able to straighten them out on a few things here. Make them listen. I believe there must be a set of misunderstandings here. Spike wouldn't attack the watchers just for the fun of it anymore." Then he added, with a glum understatement "getting a soul kinda does suck all the joy out of that." He rolled his eyes. "So, we need to get to the bottom of this, see what kinda snag started this whole vendetta against them." ... "I believe I should call in Lorne for that. He's the guy who's good at this stuff, of getting people to pour their hearts out." he added in an afterthought.   
  
"Well, I don't know if this is gonna work" Buffy commented. "But I'm happy you're taking care of it, so that I don’t have to." They shared a long sad look, and she rested her still wet cheek on his non-corporeal shoulder, sinking deep into it. "I so wish you had a body I could hug right now." she pouted. Then suddenly, she felt a sharp impact on her shoulder, like someone was punching her. She looked up in alarm.  
  
He straightened himself up too, and stared at his right hand. Then at her, before he did it again - focused on her intently, and shot his fist forward to bump her in the shoulder. She looked up at him in awe. "What ... how do you feel ... does this mean you're on the way to solidness again?" "I don't think so..." Angel mused. "It doesn't feel like it". He looked at his hand again, and drove it through the wall behind them. "No. As ghostly as ever" he commented. "But you know ghosts. We're known to be able to rattle things. I believe the common lore says that ghosts operate on willpower, rather than physical might." He stopped himself in his reasoning, and gave her a warm gaze. "Suits well at least, since there's nothing I want more right now than to be able to touch you." She returned his gaze and lit up into a warm smile, before she pulled herself into his lap, and got herself fully engulfed in Angel-spirit, in the closest they could come to a non-corporeal hug. "Keep working on it" she muttered. "Maybe you'll be able to cuddle later."  
  
**************************************************  
  
Spike was cold. Not just the regular no own body heat version of it. Icy, piercing cold, down to the innermost of his soul. The kind of cold that, unlike the harmless physical version, could have him curl up under the blankets and shiver. His head was a swirl of fog that was steadily darkening. How the hell could this have happened?  
  
Oh, he understood how it had happened. He knew perfectly well that all of this gang, that he had found himself in such an unnatural association with, was never really his friends. Vampires didn't have friends. Unless they were Angel. But, he had somehow had the idea, especially after they explicitly denied him to make it happen, that none of them wanted him dusted. And still, when Giles, the one person who had made it explicitly clear that he wanted to see him dust, and who was in allegiance with the Council who had expressed that they wanted even worse things, came back and he tried to defend himself against the Watcher's soon to come attacks, they were all on Giles' side, and ganged up on him.  
  
So, they'd decided to lock him up again, like a sitting duck ready for roasting. Willow apologized sorely for not being witch enough to keep him in the last time. Well, her bloody freeze spells were at least juicy enough to be proud of. Xander took out his carpentry gear, and set up a chain link to the wall that was solid enough to hold him, and where was Buffy when they locked him up? Nowhere to be seen, like she didn't even care at all.   
  
  
So, that's it, huh? He worked tirelessly, tried with everything in him to survive one obstacle at the time, only to end up here, chained up, Buffy’s eyes unable to bother falling on him while it was being done. Too much, that’s what he was to her. She wanted him hidden away; out of sight, out of mind. It was easier for the “white hats” to be right. He could fight, scream, demand to be heard, demand for them to see him. He could raise his voice till it got sore, but to hope was to be a fool. He wore that name like a badge of honor, but even the jester gets tired every now and again.   
  
It was back to the beginning. He had tugged and pulled at the chains as much as he could, probably caused a mighty enough ruckus that everyone knew what was going on, but not been able to move them an inch. As the images overwhelmed him, of being back on the table in the Initiative basement, and being locked up by the First in Its cave before that. Damn, he kept getting into these situations all the time, didn't he? Pathetic sod, who couldn't stand up for himself. He made a few more attempts at the chains, but they wouldn't give. Then the cold came creeping in. If only he could see her one more time. If only she could come up and be willing to actually talk about it! She had understood his need to kill Wood. She valued his safety. Her bond with Giles was strong, but she had defied him before, he still remembered their conversation outside his door back in Sunnydale right after he was brought back, when Buffy had made it perfectly clear to Giles that there was no way in hell that she was gonna let him stake him. It was to protect his own existence he went after the Watchers. If he could only sit down with Buffy, and explain that, calm and clearly, then she might understand. Then she might forgive him... Maybe.  
  
Scents and footsteps were approaching up the stairs. Fred with pig's blood. Hmm, dinner time then. He hurried to straighten himself up into the most dignified position possible under these circumstances, and watched her come in. With a "hey" and a bright smile, and a mug in her hand that she offered him with a cheerful "dinner is served". He couldn't help it; he just had to give her in. Stupid bint! She had always seemed so perceptive before, and now, in this situation, she seriously thought he would be able to eat that, without his queasy stomach sending it all right up again? No thank you! Been there, done that. Such ignorance didn't even deserve a proper explanation. Plus, he had to admit, tearing into her and making her miserable was kinda fun. Made him feel a little less pathetic himself.  
  
That didn't last long though. He was pathetic. Helpless and afraid, and almost too exhausted by it to have any energy to fuel his fear any longer. 

  
So, he just sank into the cold. Drowned in it. He could feel the tidal waves of the cold blue gloomy ocean inside engulfing him. And then it was spilling out. Streaming down his face, wet on his pillow, salt and tangy in his mouth. He was crying his heart out, and couldn't stop it anymore.

  
***********************************************************************

  
Buffy walked along the corridors of the hotel, and mused over what Angel had said. When did he become such a skilled litigator? What he said made sense though. They were all scared, they were all tired, they were still two groups trying to fit together. Of course there would have to be complications. And, as someone who had lived so long on the Hellmouth, she guessed she shouldn't have expected those difficulties to be merely unpleasant social tension either. They were demons and demon hunters. Things did go more readily messy and bloody with them. But they just needed to talk. Sit down calmly, and work things out together. And a good place to start with that would be to go to the root of the problem at hand: her blonde, out of control vampire. She didn't know how hard it would be, but she had to talk to him. Try to figure why he had gone on a Watcher killing spree, and what could be done to stop it.  
  
She hoped that was even possible. She knew how pig headed Spike could be, how impossible it was to turn him around when he first got his mind set on something. And in their last fight on the matter, when they tried to contain him after attacking Wesley, he had clearly not been the least bit sorry for what he had done. Quite the contrary, he had run off to strike again as soon as he could! She shuddered. What had become of him? Was he going bad again? Would she one day have to fight him for real, to make sure he didn't kill her whole gang? What had gotten into him, doing two attacks in a row in such cold blood?   
  
Then, as she approached his room, she heard something, that both clamped down on her heart, and made her feel strangely relieved from the worry that Spike had gone all cold and callous: Sore, gasping sobs. He was crying, massively.   
  
She hurried in the door, and saw him instantly jerk up from the bed, and try to wipe his face with the blankets. It was no good though, she could still see his blotched and puffy eyes in pretty much the same condition still. He sneered at her, and the self-awareness behind that sneer made her heart ache. "So, you've come for another sermon, is that it? Or have you got a stake there somewhere, that I'm not seeing?"  
  
Then he looked at her more closely, noticed the slight red swelling that still remained around her eyes as well, and softened. "You've been crying?" She nodded weakly, and felt more tears making their way through her. Just now when she thought that she wouldn't have more of them left for a little while. "This whole situation hurts." she replied. "But it looks like it hurts more for you than for me." She sat down on the bedside next to him, and implored softly "I'm ready to try to see now. Would you please try to explain to me why you did it?"  
  
He stared at her with a face full of mixed emotions. Of awe, gratitude, insecurity and astonishment. She had been crying. That hurt! He never wanted her to be unhappy! He really hoped he had not caused it. He probably had. However, now she sat there, staring at him, in a warm and open manner that was almost beyond what he had been hoping for. This was it? His chance! Maybe. How much of the situation was she blind to?  
  
"You really don't know?" he asked in a whisper. "No." Buffy replied slowly. "Or, I guess I can see why you'd have a grudge against Giles. with how he conspired with Wood that first time, and with how he reacted when you came back. But why Wesley first? He has done nothing to threaten your life, that I know of?" It was clearly a question, not an accusation.  
  
"Well, he's a Watcher, isn't he?" Spike looked guardedly up at Buffy, to see if her attitude changed with that answer, but it didn't. She just kept looking at him, in that same open, curious manner. That gave him the courage to elaborate a little. "I saw him make a call to the Council. Their main members were there, down in the Initiative labs. They wanted to take me away, to their own dungeons, to do experiments. They were stopped from doing that only by a phone call that their headquarters were blown up." He took a breath and continued. "From how Wesley behaved when we first met, with that highly scientific interest in my soul, I have every reason to assume he is in league with them, and calling in to put their plan into action. I had to stop it."  
  
The wheels were spinning in Buffy's mind. This was a lot to take in. It sorta made sense now. Only, it didn't. The Council could not have been in Sunnydale when their headquarters exploded. She had gotten sure reports that they were there, and died in the blast. They were dead... An idea occurred to her. "Spike" she inquired with a new urgency. "When was this? When did they come down to you?" Spike looked at her in a slightly puzzled manner. "I don't know. Time got kinda fuzzy down there. But it had gone a far too long plenty of it. It was not very long before you came, I'd guess."   
  
"Then it was not them." Buffy stated determinately. She felt chilled to the bone, as another memory stabbed her like an icicle to the heart. The First! It had warned her that this would happen. This was what It had been referring to, when It had gloated that It had messed Spike up so badly that he would go after her friends and splinter her gang apart even without the old trigger. "The Council headquarters blew up within just a few days of you getting abducted," she explained to Spike. "And according to our information, which we have no reason to doubt, the main members were all there, gathered in a meeting when it happened. We believe the minions of the First did it."   
  
Spike looked at her in shock, as the pieces started to fall into place for him too. "I never saw them touch anything, neither of them..." he muttered. He felt himself shaking like a leaf, as the ramifications of what he heard hit him. He was such an idiot! How could he have trusted anything that happened down in that cave? He had seen how many illusions the First had drawn up down there. He should have written this off just like the rest of It's crap. Known that such a show only meant that It wanted him to hate Watchers, and that that was thus the last thing he should try to do. But... it had been such a long time down in that hell when It had pulled that stunt. He was badly injured, starved, sleep deprived due to both the stress and the constant merciless lightening down there. So desperate for something to happen, after week after week of mostly just staring into the same white wall in the same unchanging room forever, and so close to delirious that it was hard enough just to keep track of what was happening. To evaluate it's truth value as well was just too much.   
  
He was better now though. Stronger, with a mind that was at least somewhat functional again. He could think this through, and find out what was the real truth of the matter. "So all this was a set up? But then, which guys in England could Wesley have been calling?" Buffy smiled. "He and Giles are hard at work with establishing a new Council. A better version of it, to take care of all the new slayers. It must have been them he was checking up on... And besides," she added in an afterthought "Even if there was something remaining of the old Council, which there isn't, you can be certain that Wesley would have nothing to do with their latest schemes. He was excluded years ago, and has not had anything to do with them lately." She smiled a little, and afforded herself an affectionate laugh. "He's still got the bookish, nerdy tendencies and somewhat awkward social skills that they were famous for, so it makes sense that your first conversation with him didn't go over very well. But the old Council is gone, and he lost touch with them well before they were killed, so you can feel quite safe that there is no conspiracy going on between them."  
  
Spike looked at her with wide shocked eyes, and said nothing for a little while, though clearly thinking hard. "So, there is nothing going on with Wesley... but Angel told me a story, of one of their earliest interactions, where Wesley called in the council and had him captured in a net, over a difference of opinion about Faith." Buffy though a little bit. "Ah, that old debacle. Yes, it is true. But did he also mention that neither Wesley or the council did him any harm in that situation? He was a vampire, whom the council had a general zero tolerance policy against, and still, he made them only get Angel out of the way, by tying him up in that net, and grab Faith, who they came for. I imagine that must've been a feat for him, to get them to agree to that."

   
Spike thought even more, and seemed to change line of conversation. "So, if it was not the council who were down there, then it was not Giles who had alerted them to the situation either? He did not know I was missing any more than you did?" Buffy shook her head. "I have no reason to think that he did. He never gave any reason to think he knew anything, and he seemed genuinely shocked when I brought you back."  
  
They sat there, and looked at each other, both pondering deeply. She grumbled a little. "I should've seen this coming. The First came to me, that first night I had you back, and gloated, that it had you just where it wanted, and was really pleased with me for having taken you back at such a great time, that fit so well with It's purposes. It wasn't very specific, but predicted that this would happen. That you would hurt people I care about, and splinter the gang apart. It was going for it. "  
  
Spike's eyes lit up with defiant fury. "What? So it's been playing me like a sock puppet this whole time, is that it? Why didn't you mention this a long time ago? Why didn't you warn me?!" Buffy winced, and gave him a sore look. "Because you had so much else to worry about. I didn't want to burden you further." She took a deep breath, and made herself continue. "And because I didn't want to think about it, myself." she admitted. "I didn't want it to mean something. So I tried to write it off as just another of It's empty threats."   
  
Spike took that in. The matter now seemed perfectly clear. Despites all his efforts to the contrary, the First had gotten to him again after all. Exploited his fear and uncertainties, and played him like a sock puppet once more, only in a different way than last time. That was unacceptable! He had faced his fear and broken It's hold on him before. He could do it again. Even if it was the last thing he did! "If it wasn’t empty then, then it certainly will be! It's plans are gonna be pulled short right now. We'll find a way to put things right again!"

Buffy smiled warmly, and met his eyes in a gaze of mutual determination. Then she went to the drawer on the other side of the room, found the key to the chains, and went and opened them. Spike got out of the bed the moment they were off, and stood up, facing Buffy on the floor, holding her hands in his, and her eyes locked in his gaze. Shecame up closer to him, and curled herself into his arms, in a tight hug.

"Yes, we will." she muttered affectionately. “Was there anyone else the First impersonated, that It might want to target?” She broke the embrace, and looked up at him. “No.” Spike searched his memories, and noticed, as a sidebar, how strange and new it was for him to actually come to them, with a query to be figured out, sooner than just being attacked and overthrown by them, and taken back to those times by force. “Other than the Council, it only came as you…” he gave her a sore, shy, look, which she returned with a nod, and a warm, open gaze of her own. “… and a few long dead people.”

They sat down together, and held on to each other’s hands. “And there is nothing anyone can do that will ever turn me back against you.” She felt the intensity of his gaze so warm and clearly that it made her dizzy, and her whole body started shivering, with a purely electric joy over having him there, so close, so beautiful, so focused on her. She let go of his hands, and moved hers up his arms instead, down his chest and around his waist, and could feel him shiver in much the same way she was. Without thinking, they moved in to fully close the gap between them, and melted together, into a deep, passionate kiss, even more hungry and intimate than the one they had shared out in the street, over Wood's drained body.   
  
Right then, the door went up, and they heard a sharp, pointed gasp. They broke apart, and saw Willow in the door, taking in the scene, them, the ruffled bed and the abandoned chains. She stood there for a little while without saying anything, then she turned to Buffy and uttered, in an entirely matter-of-fact tone: "We just got a call from the hospital, that Wesley is ready to be discharged. Would you like to come with us to take him home?"

Buffy gave first her and then Spike an awkward look, and stepped towards her. "Eh, yeah, sure. We've just been discussing a few things here now, that he needs to be filled in on as soon as possible. So I'm happy he's coming home. I'll be right there." She turned to Spike. "Are you coming?" He stepped out, and cast a glance down the hallway, into the sunlit lobby. "Can't, now, can I? The sun is up. A bit risky to be moving around outside then." He gave her a warm, glowing look. "But you go. I'll wait for you, and then we get together when you come back."

 


	19. Watch, Listen, now Learn.

Buffy went with Willow down the stairs and into the waiting crowd in the lobby, still a bit dazed from what had just gone on up in the bedroom, trying hard to change from “kissing Spike” mode, to “retrieving Wesley from hospital”. She hoped dearly she had made the right choice, in giving her vampire a third chance. If another trip to the hospital would be in the near future, she didn’t think she could bear it.

No, she was right. She had to be. Spike seemed to have finally actually listened to her. Now she just had to get the others to listen too, and get her truce with Gunn about not staking Spike be made permanent. However the hell it was she was gonna do that…

A strange, dense sensation in the air around her broke her ponders, and she looked up, startled to find herself entirely engulfed in Angel-spirit. “Huh, what? You’re here too? On your way out with the rest of us? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere hiding from the sunlight by now?” she rambled, as she tumbled out of his space. Angel chuckled and turned towards her. “I’m already deader than dead. There’s nothing left to dust, that the necklace hasn’t fried away already. I’m fine. And I dare say I know Wesley better than you, so yeah, I’m coming to get him.”

Buffy nodded, and they headed towards the exit together. Everyone but Willow. “Come on” Buffy chided. “You’re the one who picked me up for this! Do I have to come and get you now?” “No…” Willow replied airily. “I was just thinking. We haven’t got anything ready for the Welcome Home party. Not that it needs to be much, I don’t think we need a whole party in the making when we got the news that he was ready to come home so suddenly, and he’d probably appreciate it more if we were all quickly there to you know… actually welcome him home, but I just thought, if it was possible, that it would be nice to stay behind and prepare something a little extra, to make him feel safe and comfortable upon homecoming, with all the mayhem that was when he was hurt. I just though… “ she trailed off.

Buffy rolled her eyes. She knew this twitchy version of rambling Willow all too well. She had something she was pining about, that made her uncomfortable about meeting up with Wesley right away. She smiled. ”OK Willow. Stay back and prepare what you think is best. We’ll be back.”

“Thank you” Willow smiled, still as tense as ever. Buffy gave a fleeting thought to what might be eating her, but decided to just give it a slip and go. She had enough on her mind already.

Willow slid back, with a mixture of relief and fresh anguish. There was really something she needed to do, urgently, before Wesley came back. She had meant to go with them, but now she knew that she couldn’t. She had stood next to Giles, and seen the bandages around his neck, and gotten reminded of how very close it was that he too was not in the hospital now, or worse. And it was his own magic, not hers, that had prevented it. With herbs they were currently out of. There were images floating through her head in quick succession, of him in a gush of blood in his own bed, and Spike on top of him. Of him earlier, asking that Spike be safely chained up, which she had helped Buffy refuse, by suggesting this lock up spell that she deep inside knew she couldn’t do. She had failed, Spike had gotten out, and attacked again. Next time, Giles may not be as equipped and prepared as he was this time. Next time, Wesley, weakened as he may be after his current hospital stay, might be dead. And Buffy would never realize it before it was too late. Willow had seen what was going on upstairs. Spike had cuddled his way into Buffy’s good graces again, and was left unchained. She had been worried about him for some time now. She knew what it was like to be in the deep pit of despair that she had seen him in for so long. She had had those sentiments. The need to lash out, against everyone who caused her pain, the need to damn it just make the world stop, so that it could stop hurting. He was dangerous. And a danger she had failed to protect against before. She had hoped so dearly that things would work out, she had tried to give him all the care and sympathy and opportunities to talk things through that she could. It wasn’t working. Things were just getting worse. And she couldn’t let Wes come back to a still dangerous home.

She walked off from the hallway, and around the hotel for a little bit, until she had ended up back in the reception area again. Nothing. She made her way into Wesley’s office behind it, and gasped. There he was! Looking through Wesley’s things with a determined, almost predatory glance, as if he had already resumed stalking him.

“What are you doing here?!” she asked, in a voice cold with threats.

“Willow!” Spike uttered, in mild confusion over her tone, “You’re not with the others?”

“No.” she said, trying to force trepidation out of her voice. “I stayed behind to prepare things, and make sure he’s safe, when he gets here. “ And with that, she reached out her hand, and started uttering the freeze spell.

Spike understood where this was going in the last second, and threw himself to the side, neatly dodging the spell that went swirling past him. “Hey!” he shouted, and pulled around her, trying to get away, out of the confined space of the office. “The deal was, you were supposed to be in lock up until we had agreed to trust you again. You’ve forgotten that already?” She shot off another spell, and he dodged it, more narrowly this time, while pushing past her, and back out into the hall. “How am I supposed to...” he dropped off the sentence to duck another spell she flung at him. “… get you to agree to that, if you won’t see me?” “Stop attacking us would be a good idea” she deadpanned, while turning to a coil of rope laying in a sack in a corner, making it uncoil itself in the air and rush towards him. “Well, I’m not the one who’s attacking now, am I?” he snapped, but barely had time to finish the sentence before the ropes hit, from several angles at once, trying to wrap themselves around him. He grabbed a coat stand, now emptied of coats after everyone had gone, and used it as a stick to fight off the ropes, but they kept coming. Sneaking up and flying in from here, there and everywhere. It was all he could do to keep track of it, and in the end, he wasn’t just fighting the assault of flying ropes, but a rising sense of panic as well. Tied up, locked down. Helpless, vulnerable, alone… the flashbacks were coming on so violently that it was all he could do to keep them at bay enough to keep the fight up. It pissed him off! Like hell if he was gonna put up with this bullshit, let alone from someone who should know better, who he had thought he could count on in this. A foolishly naïve thought. He went into game face, and started biting the ropes off as well. And noticed with a certain satisfaction that his attacker gasped and stepped back a little at that.

*******************************************************************************

The hospital was as busy and chaotic as these places often could be during the height of the day, But the gang who burst in was still able to find the man they were looking for rather quickly. Wesley walked towards them with his arm in a sling, but otherwise looking fresh and healthy, and clearly very ready to get home. They were going through the procedure of checking out, and were introducing themselves to the hospital clerk taking care of the needed paper work as she looked up and said, rather matter-of-factly. “Angel, was it? We were just about to call you on a different matter. You are the emergency contact of Cordelia Chase, right? We just got word that she’s awake.”

*********************************************************************************

Spike bit and tore at the coming ropes, turning one after the other to shrivels and noticing that they started coming slower and slower. Hmm, was the red little witch finally running out of juice? She was approaching closer too. Walking steadily towards him, with her face screwed up in concentration, her humming voice as intense as ever, in a steady chant. Perfect. One more step now, and he’d have her within such distance that it would be just to reach out and grab her, and put a stop to this nonsense.  Then he collapsed with a blinding headache. Ah, bloody hell! At least _that_ was supposed to be long over with! He writhed and trashed around on the floor, and wanted to curl up in a fetal position, but couldn’t allow himself such luxury, for fear of losing sight of the wicked witch, who was now finishing her chant, and holding out her hand towards him, bending down towards his cringing form on the floor. “Sensory memory” she chirped. “No real harm. But your mind was wide open to reminders of previously suffered pain. I could sense it. ” She turned a little around on the floor and collected a few ends of scattered rope. “And since you were so stubborn about not honoring our agreement of detainment in any other way, I needed a pacifier. I’m sorry.”

_Not nearly sorry enough! You try having your head exploding in phantom pain, and see how not real it is! But ok, this isn’t really happening. It can be blocked out. Come on_. He saw her approach again with the ropes, just lay there, rigid, and waited. _Come on. Just a little better angle!_ There. She was passing by him just right, when he quickly turned around and gave her a solid kick in the chest, strong enough to send her square across the floor, and banging against the opposite wall. He was up in a heartbeat, noting with relief that the pain was gone. He was on top of this now. A predator on the prowl, just like before. He approached, ducked as she tried to send more little rays of magic at him, circling what was now his prey with the grace that knows not to stay too long in one spot, so as to be hard to fix a steady aim at. Around and around, closer and closer, constantly blocking off her escape routes, while always having found a new spot when she aimed at where he was a second ago. He felt the rush coming. The trill of a good hunt. The confidence booster he had felt so many times before, of getting into a situation that was dangerous, and slightly out of control, but still perfectly manageable for a fighter like him. He smiled and chuckled, and noticed her realize that she was not as skilled at the steps of this dance as she needed to be. He came down on her, one hand on each of her sides, and with his bared fangs going straight at her head.

And picked out a spare piece of rope he had collected himself, deftly tied her hands together at the back of a chair that he forced her down into, and whispered in her ear. “You have been a very wicked witch, who needs to be tied up until you can be trusted again.”

**********************************************************************************

“Angel?” Cordelia whispered in bewilderment. “Yes.” He confirmed, voice shaking, as he kneeled down by her bedside, in front of the crowd of others. At first, the doctors tried to stop everybody going in at the same time, saying a recently awakened coma patient should not be stressed out by such a crowd crowding in on her, but nobody listened, and just pushed past the flustered medics, until they decided to just allow them. “I thought you were dust! I saw it, in my sleep. There was a cave with all hordes of monsters in it, and you incinerated them all, and yourself as well, with light coming from a … hideously unfashionable necklace. I should’ve known it wasn’t real. That no one, not even you, could have such a lousy sense of style as to wear something like that.” Angel smiled, and reached out to take her hand, going straight through it. Her eyes widened. “You weren’t wrong. What you see is true, as always.” “What happened to you?” “According to Fred, the hideously unfashionable necklace turned me into a pure spirit being, popularly speaking a ghost, but not quite. I’m fine though. I can go out in the sunshine now. And I’m learning to move things around with willpower.” She smiled, and got a determined look on her face. “You’ve got to get these doctors to let me go home, so I can help you sort this out.” Just then, one of the said doctors stuck her head in, and caught the last snippet of the conversation. “No way, miss. You’ve just gotten out of coma. You’re staying here for observation at least for a few more days before we can talk about going home.” She gave the rest of the room a stern look. “And the rest of you? You do really need to go home now. It’s not even visiting hours, and there are way too many of you to be in the same hospital room. Miss Chase has had a very eventful day already, and needs to rest. You can come back tomorrow… Or, some of you can, at least” she added, with a stern look around the crowd.

*********************************************************************************

“Now, are you gonna sit still and not try anything now, or do I have to gag you?” Willow looked up at him with a mixture of fear and defiance. “I could still get you, you know.” “I know. That’s why I asked. I worry that I might have to shut your mouth, to stop this spellcasting. But I really don’t want to hurt you. I know I’ve done enough of that already, and it needs to stop.”

He’d done enough to create distrust and mayhem among the scoobies for a long time coming. And it had all been part of the First’s plan. That fresh bit of insight annoyed him to no end. The First had played him – again! This had been one of It’s probably many, perhaps alternative, plans with the ordeal It had put him through. Give the idea that not just was Buffy back with Angel and not interested in him anymore (had It wanted him to kill them too? Not good to know. He hoped so, since it would mean that at least something hadn’t gone according to plan) but that the Watchers were after him too, and must be killed for him to remain safe. He chided himself for falling for it. But on the other hand, he had to admit that it had been very cleverly done, posing as “the Watcher’s council” down in the caves. It had been packed in as an aside to the big deal, about Buffy and Angel, and all the rest of the crap that had been loaded on him down there, and it was rather low key and credible. No overkill, nothing more than he could readily imagine they could do, based on what he knew about them. And with that subtly slipped in mention they gave about having been tipped off about his whereabouts, to give the impression that Giles knew where he was, and had called them, and would send them to lock him up in another torture chamber first chance they got.

Had It known too, through It’s careful espionage of the scooby gang, how Giles would play directly into such a setup once they met? Spike didn’t know, but it gave him a certain satisfaction to acknowledge that this calamity he was stuck in right now, wasn’t just his own or the First’s making. Giles had behaved like a jerk through this whole ordeal, and it was something that needed to be addressed, but in a much calmer, and definitely not evil way.

Willow eyed him skeptically, but with a slight trace of surprised hope. “So you recognize that what you’ve done has been wrong?” “If you had only bothered to ask first and shoot later, I could’ve told you that half an hour ago. What’s gotten into you, Red? You never were the most trigger happy bird I knew?” “As opposed to you, you mean? As I knew you, for years before getting your soul back, you weren’t exactly hesitant about taking others down. You tried to kill me, twice, remember?” She gave him a sore look, and he didn’t really know what to say to that, the old wall of guilt he’d been struggling with this whole year shooting up again. “I wouldn’t…” he retorted, hotly, before she stared him down and interrupted. “I know. That was before. You have a soul now. You’re not the monster you were anymore, and I respect that. I have seen the change.” He gave her a mildly surprised look. “But you’re still the kind of guy who doesn’t give up on a project once started. Who will pursue it to the bitter end when you first have something on your mind. And who doesn’t readily take crap from anyone. So, I’m very worried about how far this vendetta you seem to have going will go.”

“It won’t” he said, with such stern determination that it gave her pause. “All that you said there is right. Which is why this is already over. Buffy had some pretty interesting tidbits of info to share, before you came in upstairs. The First had paid her a visit, one of the last days in Sunnydale. It had gloated…” He took a break, shaking, forcing himself to go on. “This was It’s plan all along. It wants us at each other’s throats. So that’s the last thing it’s gonna get.” Willow’s eyes widened. “Really? The First planned for this? How…” She looked him deep into the eyes, and he could see her features softening, while she asked, with a soft, sensitive voice: “What really happened, down there in the caves, alone with It and Wood for a month?”

He took in her warm, caring gaze, and told her.  About the beatings, burns and other forms of physical torture. About the maddening silence, and stark painful light that was it’s own form of torture on days when nothing happened. About the timeless, mind-numbing monotony, that made it so hard to maintain a normal critical attitude to what was happening, and in the end made him unable to keep up the awareness that the things he saw might well just be the First’s mirages. So that he, when the “Watcher’s council” had made their arrival, had had no mental resources left to fight with, and readily accepted their malign presence as god given truth.

“I can readily imagine that” Willow nodded. “I felt it, during the fight. Your aura, it was dented in a way. With a strong echo of too much suffered pain.” She avoided his gaze, and started to cry. “I felt it, and I took advantage of it. I caught hold of that echo and supercharged it. I’m a terrible person. I’m so sorry!” “It hurt.” He admitted, more scared by that exposition than he cared to let on. If she could sense and exploit this, then what about other witches? Was he a walking free target, for every warlock who might get a kick out of it in the future? He had to know more of this. ”How much could you see?” “Not much.” She pondered. Thinking about it, clearly trying to give him a full and honest answer. “I sensed a dent. A vulnerability. A resonance field of sore energy. But it took me a while to tap into it. It was hard. Any vision of more pain clearly wouldn’t mesh with it. I understood it had to be recognizable. It had to invoke an actual memory. Something of that the sore energy field was build of itself. Which left the more recent trauma out of the question, since I have not witnessed that, and could not feed into it with enough detail and accuracy to make it real again. So, then I had only but one recourse, for something that would fill both criteria, of having once been profoundly hurtful enough, both physically and spiritually, to be part of the dent, and which I had seen happen enough times to be able to recreate perfectly. The chip migraines. But that wasn’t enough either. I needed to stand physically inside the dented aura to be able to affect it. Which meant coming really close. Which meant getting a solid kick in the ribs in return for it.” She smiled mirthfully. “So it turned out to not be much of a magical weapon after all” she reassured, happy to see him relax visibly.  

They were still talking when the gang arrived with Wesley an hour later. They all stopped, and stared in various versions of shock at the scene in front of them, of Willow tied up to a chair, with trails of recently shed tears on her face, and Spike sitting next to her, loose and free. Both turning towards the newcomers, in a startled manner.

“What on God’s green earth is going on here?” Giles asked in befuddlement. Xander rushed over to Willow, and bent down over her. “Are you hurt?” Gunn shot out towards Spike, who got up and took a step forward in response. “If you’re hurting her too…” “He didn’t!” Willow shouted sharply, and everyone turned to her. “I attacked him. We fought, he won, and could have done anything, but didn’t. He just tied me up to stop the fight, and we had a long and nice conversation.”

“You did what?” Gunn turned to her, and gave her a befuddled look. “Had a nice and long conversation. It cleared up a lot of things. I was wrong to attack and try to lock Spike up again. We’ve talked about why he started attacking the watchers, and why it was a mistake. I sincerely believe he’s not dangerous any longer.” “And you’re basing that certainty on…?” Gunn was still clearly skeptical. “Forgive me for finding this situation slightly absurd. You’ve been tied up by a vampire who has recently been on a blood spree, and you’re saying everything is fine?”

“Think about it.” Willow said. “We’ve been here alone like this for more than an hour. If he had wanted to, he could have killed me, drained the corpse, and disposed of the leftovers by now. Nothing of the kind has happened. Like I said, I attacked him. And he even seemed to take care to hurt me as little as possible in return.”

At this, Angel came forward, and announced, plain and simple, in his ‘in command’ voice: “With so much to sort through, I think its best to make a proper meeting about this. Would everyone please find a seat, so that we can discuss this in an organized manner?” He looked around the room and found everyone’s eyes. Then he walked over to the reception seating area, and added as an aside “and someone cut Willow loose, so she can join too?”

Buffy looked around and saw everyone picking up to do as they were told, and felt a huge rush of gratitude towards Angel. She had been getting more and more worried of having to dive in to settle this matter herself, and with the last outbreak she had to deal with, over the dinner table, fresh in mind, she wasn’t sure how much authority she had left to do it. But he had come through for her, just like he had promised her he would, back when he let her cry on his non-corporeal shoulder after said dinner table row.

They all filed into the lobby seating area and took their seats, with Angel choosing to stand at the forefront of the seated group. Partly for the authority of being the only one standing up, but also because he feared he might fall straight through it if he tried to use a chair, and didn’t want to be made a laughing stock. “Willow” he said, turned towards the latest arrival. ”Now that we’re all seated, can you please answer the question Gunn asked you in more detail, why you are convinced that Spike will no longer hurt, not just you but any of us, including Giles and Wesley?”

Willow nodded, and recounted, without going into any much sensitive details, the tale Spike had given her, about the First’s plan and manipulations. The others listened, some with various degrees of scepticism, but said nothing to interrupt her. Buffy felt secretly jealous at the thought that Spike might well have confided in Willow lots of details of that terrible month, that he had never confided in her. But she pushed that feeling back. This was not the time for such pettiness. _And besides_ a little voice inside chided her _have you ever really asked him about it?_

“Buffy” Angel addressed her, breaking into her train of thought. “What exactly did the First say to you, as Willow tells us? How do you know that it was talking about this.” “Oh, “ she said, trying to gather her mind on the question. “Well, it didn’t mention this situation in detail, It was it’s usual vague self, but it did say that it had wanted me to find Spike down in that cave, because It had played with his mind, to make him destroy our gang for It. It bragged that it hadn’t even needed to inset a trigger this time, that It had sooner made him want to do it”

“So the First used the dead Council to set Spike up against us all? And then, when I told him I was making a call to the new Council in England … it must have sounded like the call he’d been afraid someone might give them” Wesley mused. “That’s rather interesting. And.. quite disturbing really. A really scarily crafted mind game. Especially since it worked.”

He gulped, and looked at Spike, who took up the thread. “Until now! I’m nobody’s bitch, and now that I know this, I’m certainly not playing the First’s game any longer. So, I’m sorry everyone. Especially you watchers. I should not have attacked you.” He looked at both of them in turn, and added, directed at Giles. “One question though, even if the debacle with the Council wasn’t real, how many times were you really plotting to kill me lately? A lot? I heard several things that gave that impression. From the tale of your aid to the attempt down in that garage, through our first meeting after the First’s latest stunt, outside of Buffy’s door, where you were most obviously not happy to see me, to the conversation you had with her inside a little later, where you outright tried to persuade her to stake me. So, if we are gonna have a truce, is it mutual?”

Giles sat rigid for a few seconds, took out a handkerchief and busied himself with cleaning his glasses for a few seconds more, and then mumbled “Eh, yeah, I can understand where you might have gotten that impression. I can see now, in hindsight, how I might have played right into the First’s intentions by so clearly supporting such overt measures. My analysis proved correct though. The First had done something with you that would prove dangerous to the lot of us. It was a looming threat, that no one else seemed to see, and that I have to admit has given me a lot of worries.” He looked around the table “It’s something we should have been able to find a solution to a long time ago.”

“We should” Angel concurred, before anyone else had the time to seize the word. “And if all hell hadn’t broke loose, and we hadn’t had so much else to deal with, I’m sure we would’ve come together and dealt with this situation the way we, and the way I know you, you scoobies too, normally deal with it when one of our own get into serious trouble and cause havoc because of it.” He made carefully sure to meet the eyes of each one of them. Spike felt a somewhat unwelcome lump rise in his throat by the sound of his grand-sire so naturally claiming him as one of his own. It had been so long since the last time that happened.

“It looks like we’re already well on our way to finding a way through this. Evil knows that we’re only as strong as we are together. It will constantly find new ways to try to split us up. Then we have to be as good at keeping together, and working through all the difficulties that gets thrown at us. You all have already been pretty good at it when my inner demon breaks loose and does insufferable things. So though it may not be easy, I know from experience that we can be stronger than this.”

“That’s not quite the same though.” Dawn injected, when everyone fell into a strained silence. “When you lose your soul, you like, become someone else, who does all these things until someone finds the right spell to cast to fix it. But Spike didn’t do this under a spell. Or any other magical or mystical influence. It was really his doing.”

“Yes” replied Fred thoughtfully. “This isn’t a magical problem. It’s a human one. You’re right, Giles” she looked at him. “This is a problem that should have been carefully talked about and dealt with better much before now. It being a human problem though, it would perhaps have been a lot easier to tackle if Spike was actually, you know, human.” She blushed slightly at the thought of giving her opinion on this touchy subject, in this tense atmosphere, but pressed on. “An ordinary, vanilla, human, who had been through a trauma like what Spike has had to deal with, could see a therapist. Preferably one who specializes in trauma treatment for PTSD patients.”

The whole room gave her focused attention as she continued. “I looked it up and read about it when I was going through a lot myself after those years in hell. I think that’s what we’re dealing with here. Depression, anxiety, flashbacks, nightmares, difficulties sleeping and concentrating. Avoiding situations reminiscent of what happened down in the caves at all cost.” She stopped, upon noticing how Spike looked more and more tense, and gave him a warm reassuring smile. “Like the little painkiller incident shortly after you came here. When you made it so obvious that you preferred going through all that pain you were in, rather than being drugged again, like down there. It’s ok.” She smiled, reacting to his obvious discomfort at getting so exposed. “We’ve all seen it, more or less. And those who haven’t, much, need to know, so that we have a good idea what we’re dealing with here. It’s natural. That’s why it’s in the books. Anyone can get there, if we go through something terrible enough”

“And everyone has it in their own way.” She continued, looking out in the room again, at the gang. “I hid in my room for weeks on end, and drew on the walls, afraid to go out and face the world in any way. For someone like Spike, a vampire with a long violent history, it makes sense that there would be a lot more aggressive reactions. Anger and irritability and paranoia. But it’s not coming out of nowhere. As we have detected here now, it’s something that’s possible to figure out and stop. It’s not inevitable, and probably has gone a long way towards getting worked out just now during this hour. We can handle this. One day at the time. You guys were wonderful with me, when I had, literally, been through hell. Giving me all the time and space and help I needed to get by and move on.” She stopped a little, to catch breath and bite back a sob rising in her throat. “I’m sure we can do the same for Spike. It looks to me like he’s well under way to recovery already, really.” She stopped again, and gave him another warm sweet smile. “From being suicidal, to, in a misguided and violent way, at least fighting for his life, wanting to keep it, to now reaching this level of reflecting and analyzing distance to what happened. Relating the whole tale to Willow, and allowing her to share it with us all, allowing us to discuss and figure out what is really going on here and why. I think it’s safe to say that the violent phase of this problem may be over here and now, assuming we stop playing into it. “

“Which includes a guarantee that it actually was misguided.” Chirped Spike, feeling massively uncomfortable with this intense collective attention and exposure. “Still haven’t got that from you, Giles. Are you going to keep trying to kill me or not?”

Giles was once again too heavily engaged in wiping his glasses to give an immediate response, but after a while it came, in a reasonably clear voice. “I should not have done that. I admit to a certain fault at that point. I suspected what the First was up to, but no better than that it made me play directly into It’s hands. It was wrong of me, and both I myself and the rest of us got to suffer for that mistake later on.” He looked directly at Spike, and reached out a hand towards him. “I offer a truce. I will never again try to kill you, if you grant me the same favor.” Spike smiled, and took his outreached hand. “Deal!” He turned to Wesley, and asked “What about you? Do you forgive me too?” “Yes” Wes nodded, after a moment’s hesitation, and put his hand on top of the other two.

Buffy beamed, and looked from the one to the other of them, before reaching out her hand too, and putting it into the joint handshake. Then Xander did the same, Willow, Dawn and in the end, Gunn as well, completing the circle.


	20. Figured out

The big joint conversation went on, mingled with silences that was not anywhere as strained as only a short time before, and Spike was feeling more and more overwhelmed. It was out in the open now, more of his innermost, darkest thoughts and feelings than he had ever imagined sharing with this whole crowd of flatmates. Up for discussion, for anyone to add his or her analysis. A huge part of him just wanted to find some dark and dank place underground and hide from their collective sight.

But another, growing, part of him was relieved and elated. Everyone had been fine with it. No one was giving him a hard time. With Angel, of all people, leading on, they had fully declared him one of their own, vowed that no one would try to hurt him again, and Giles had even admitted fault in having wronged him in the past.

He felt dizzy. And soon very, very tired. He hadn’t been able to sleep for days on end, with the mortal terror that had held him constantly, through fearing attacks from the watchers, attacking them, and getting locked up time and again. The final fight with Willow floated through his mind, and he silently smiled to himself. The spell that had been used to take him down before was dodgeable. He’d felt it come, and known how to dodge it so many times that she had to give up, and recourse to a more drastic option, which could only work on such close range that whoever tried it would always be within striking distance. He had come out on top, and forced his will through, up against the most powerful witch in town. Maybe, in a couple of more good fights, he could actually really start to feel safe and confident again, feel like his old self?

But that would be later. Right now, there was nothing he wanted more than just a good day’s sleep. The sun was up hours ago. It was well past his bedtime. He got up and told the others he was turning in for the day, and went. Felt a rush of discomfort at passing by the first bedroom upstairs, where they had forced him to stay for way too long, and made a mental note never to enter that room again. He found another, a little further down the hall, and crashed on the bed, without even bothering to take his clothes off.

 

He knew nothing before a gentle hand through his hair woke him up, many hours later. The whole room was saturated in Buffy scent, and he drank in her sweet, melodious voice, directed at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. If you want to sleep on, then I’ll be out right away.” “No, it’s ok” he mumbled. “Sun down yet?” “Yeah. About an hour ago. I was thinking about going out on patrol soon, but I wanted to stop by and check on you first.” He opened his eyes fully, and turned towards her. “Why?” He was not locked up or in any kind of danger now. Not even particularly depressed. What reason could Buffy have to come in here in such a sweet and gentle way then?

She gave him an insecure little smile, and sat down on the bedside. “That story Willow recounted, from down in the Initiative caves with Wood and the First, it sounded like there was quite a lot of me in it.”

“Yeah, sorry about that” he mumbled, turning away in shame. “No” she reached out her hand, and turned his face back towards her. “I’m sorry. For being mean enough to you for so long that it made it easy for the First to use it. These whole last years, it’s been so difficult for both of us. I had never planned for there to be an “us” at all. But well, there is, and for a very long time, that scared the crap out of me.” He looked at her with wide open eyes, taking in this strangely direct confession in rapt attention, pining for more. She granted the wish. “Loving you is the scariest thing I have ever done. I had never seen it coming. In fact, after Angel broke up with me, I had solemnly promised myself never to put myself in such a situation again. “

She gulped, and swallowed down a few tears to be able to continue. She had thought about this all day while he was sleeping. Seeing his vulnerable face before her eyes, thinking of the progress Fred had rightly stated that he had made, from suicidal to reasonable and reflective about his experienced trauma. But only towards Willow, not her. He didn’t trust her. He’d made that perfectly clear already at his lowest point, in the wake of his first recent suicide attempt, when he had point blank refused to accept her declaration of love for him. She had to do something about that. She had to give him something to trust. She had decided, during the day, to really give her all to let him know how all her complex feelings were, in a way she had never allowed herself before, or probably even been capable of. To repay his bravery of sharing his trauma with everyone, with bravery of her own, in trying to dress the spiritual wounds that the First had clearly carved into. The ones that she had helped create.

She looked deep into his all too expressive, and painfully surprised, eyes, and continued. “But you just got to me. When I had lost Heaven itself, had no one to talk to, and pretty much just wanted to die, you were there. Not telling me what to think, feel or do, not demanding anything, just was there, listening and supportive, making me feel again. It was the most beautiful, and the most terrible, experience I have ever had. It turned my world around. This world that already was spinning enough to make me dizzy. I thought I knew, what heaven and hell was, good and bad, right and wrong. I had been searching, for so long, for my identity as a slayer. When I died, for Dawn, up in that tower, I thought I finally had it down, I thought I finally got it. I was good, I was a protector, I was the one always ready to die to stop evil.

And then I fell in love with you, and everything lost it’s certainty. You were everything that I was supposed to be against. A vampire – the very definition of what a vampire slayer is meant to fight. Even one without a soul. An evil soulless demon, who had personally tried to kill me and my friends on a number of occasions. And the only one in my life that could make me happy.”

She looked up in his now completely awestruck face, tears now running freely down hers. “I thought something must be fundamentally wrong with me. That I had come back from Heaven in a twisted and evil shape, that couldn’t belong there any longer. I couldn’t accept that. I just couldn’t deal. So, I tried to cling on to my categories, my purpose, whatever I thought I knew about the world. About good and evil, about right and wrong. About me and you.”

Her voice was shivering now. She reached out a hand, and grabbed one of his. Held it tightly, like a life line. “And I don’t think I was wrong to do so. What I knew about vampires and slayers and the world in general wasn’t all wrong. We were not, and could not be, a healthy couple as long as you were evil. Even in my most blissful moments, when I was deep in your embrace and wanted to never leave, I was wise to keep that in mind.”

He held her hand shakily, and gave her a deeply searching look, as if trying to read her mind about what she was about to say next. “But I was wrong to send such mixed signals about it. To my defense, I didn’t do that to play with you. I simply didn’t know any better. I was a mess, and out of control, and you were there, to take all the crap I cared to throw. And it became a lot of it. Thank you for putting up with me, through all of it.”

He tried to say something, to find some response to this raw and stunning confession. But his throat was so clogged up by the lump in it that he couldn’t have spoken even if he had known what to say. So, he just kept holding her hand, and looking at her, soaking in her every word.

“In a less messy state of mind, I could have been nicer” she conceded. “But I couldn’t have made our relationship work. The fact that you were evil were always there, and would always be causing us a world of pain and trouble, even in between all the good things. But things changed, when it got so bad that you too really saw that, and put your wonderful, stubborn determination to work at fixing the problem.” She smiled even broader, through her tears, and cuddled up next to him, letting her hand leave his, and run up his arm, and rest on his cheek. “When you got your soul for me.”

“Then it was possible. The “us”. Not right away. There was too much that had happened, too many too fresh memories, it was too hard to trust that you had really changed.” She stiffened up for a moment, and held her breath. Then she took a deep breath and eased down into the bed again. “By the time we met again, I was still having flashbacks, and tried my best to limit my visits to the bathroom.”

Now it was his turn to stiffen up, and he finally found his words, the same ones that had been uttered a lot lately. “I’m so sorry Buffy. So very sorry.” She moved her hand to press a finger against his lips. “I know! You got your soul for me. That’s the strongest apology I have ever had. I know you would never do anything so wrong with the soul.” She smiled and brought her hand back to his shoulder. “That’s what changed everything. That is why this thing now might actually work. At least I’m not afraid to say it any more: You are a good man. And I love you.”

They just laid there, for a long time, not saying any more, just sharing each other’s gaze, and each their tears. Spike returned Buffy’s touch, by reaching out a hand, and stroking her cheek, then playing with her hair. “Buffy” he whispered, in a silken soft and vulnerable voice. “I love you! I’ve loved you for so long.”

She bent forward, and closed the gap between their faces, answering him in a long, warm kiss. Their hands started moving, almost shyly, down through each other’s arms and fastened around each other’s waist, before they broke up the kiss, and just looked at each other. Laid there for a while, just basking in the embrace.

Then she gently pulled loose the hem of his shirt, and started moving her hands under it, exploring anew a chest and back that was now fully fit and strong and whole again. He looked at her, and started pulling away. “Are you sure you want to go on? After what we just talked about?” She looked into his eyes and smiled brilliantly. “Yes. You have a soul now. I trust you.” But she allowed him to pull back. “But only if you want to.”

He did. The shirt was off in the next moment, and then her shirt went as well, along with other pieces of clothing. But slowly. The aggressive, predatory hunger for each other that they had had in the past was gone. There was no even close to violent moves, no games, no power play. Just tender and careful exploration of each other, in full openness, taking all the time in the world, with no plans of leaving. When it finally culminated Buffy could not remember having ever felt so good. And with no dark and difficult bag of guilt and shame to carry along with it.

*********************************************************************************

Afterwards, they just laid there next to each others, smiling and basking in each other’s gaze. Spike couldn’t believe what had just happened. Could it actually be true? It was beyond his wildest dreams. Probably too good to last. But… maybe? He had never expected her to open up and leave herself vulnerable to such a degree, with such raw honesty, as she had done tonight. Laying here right now, looking into her intense emotional eyes, it seemed so clear that it hurt: she had meant it all. The game was over. And the cards laid on the table looked to finally be really in his favor.

“I’m not leaving you this time.” She confirmed, as if reading his mind. “But… I want to go to the bathroom. Stay right here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

He was ready to take her word for it. Settled down deeper into the bed, and stared up into the ceiling, in a nice dreamy haze of happiness. Just as a ghost passed through the wall on the opposite side of where she had exited.

“Oh, hello there, Peaches. Had a nice night out haunting?” he smiled, feeling so on top that not even the great poofter could spoil his mood. “Very funny” Angel scoffed. “At least I’ve been out doing something. While you’ve just been laying around here?” He sniffed the air, and didn’t like the scent of it one bit. Spike instantly caught on to that. “Well, yeah” he smirked, “but I’m not the only one who’s been doing….”  

At that, he was caught by surprise by a spare pillow from the mess on the floor, that came shooting forth towards him and stuffed itself towards his face so hard it became impossible to get out more words. He gasped and sputtered for a second, before grabbing it and tossing it aside. “Nice move Ghost. Getting your mojo together, are you?” he laughed, while putting up the comforter as a wall towards other items, like clothes and knickknacks from the dresser top, that kept assailing him.

“Honestly” a sharp, yet somewhat amused voice rang from the door opening. “Put you two in a room together and give you something to bicker about, and you turn into a couple of rowdy twelve year olds.”

Buffy walked in, and gave them both a stern, yet playful, look. “I’d say you guys should just get a room and wrestle it out some time. But under the current circumstances that would take shadow boxing to a whole new level.”

None of the vampires laughed. “What’s going on here?” Angel demanded. “You’re sleeping with him again?? After how that ended the last time?”

Buffy flinched, wondering how much he knew about the last time. Hopefully not anything near the whole story. Then she straightened herself up, and looked him in the eyes.

“Yes, I am. As of today, he’s my boyfriend.”

Angel twitched, and took a step towards her. “We talked about this before. Back in Sunnydale. You’re going through a hard time right now. You’ve always been a lovably strange cookie, but these times you’re being all soft and doughy, and not ready to make big decisions yet. Try to think clearly about what you’re doing.”

“For the last few months, I’ve been doing little else.” She replied sincerely. “I do remember what we talked about, and you’re right, this has been a process that has kept getting a little too hot for comfort, but, although possibly a little burnt at the edges, I think I’m finally done baking now. I’m cookies. And I’m truly sorry, you will always be special to me, but you’re not the one who gets to eat those cookies.”

Angel looked at her, with wide eyes, opened and closed his mouth before finding his voice again. “I respect that. In fact, I tried to tell you, years ago already, that that wasn’t a good idea. But I left you, and accepted all the pain of no longer having you with me, for a reason! Vampires and slayers aren’t meant to be together. You can never have a normal life like this. Never have children, never get old with someone, never get the uncomplicated life that you deserve, as not merely the slayer, but the woman that you are.” He gave Spike a dirty look. “My grand-childe here has never been mature enough to get such things, but you should. Especially if you’re “done baking”. You’re not The Slayer any longer. You’re free to just be a girl, and get the whole package of family happiness that you deserve. That I let go of you to give you.”

“I may not be The Slayer.” Buffy conceded. “But I will always be a slayer. With all that entails of various kinds of weird. I tried my darnest to keep that away from my mother, and failed, even with help from her insistent denial of the matter. Whoever else who lives with me will get involved in it sooner or later. Normal isn’t an option. I tried dating Mr. Normal for a year in college, and it didn’t work out, even when he turned out to be a specially trained demon hunter, who was down with this whole night gig of mine. I need a man who can match me. Who’s strong and fast and fit enough to keep up.  Who will not get an inferiority complex about my power, and who will not be an easy target for any demon who wish to get one over on me. I kinda doubt there are many mortals who can fit that bill.”

Noticing that he was still seething, she carried on. “And yeah, I’m well aware that there will be no fat grandchildren in my future with Spike, but the way my life is, I’m starting to think that might be an advantage. Maybe slayers aren’t meant to have children anyway? I mean, look at Wood, and how that turned out…” She turned to Spike, and gave him a grim smile, which he failed to return, being wrapped in rapt attention to her confrontation with Angel.

**********************************************************************************

The night passed with talking, cuddling, and absolutely no sleep. When she woke up in late afternoon, after sleeping most of the day away, Buffy made a promise to herself to not make such a vampiric sleep pattern a habit. Yeah, right, with so much to do with vampires both in her work and personal life, that wasn’t gonna be an easy one to keep.

But she had other people in her life too, thankfully. Warm, living, if not exactly normal, people. And now it was long overdue to get up and see them, before they started worrying about where she was. Spike was not overly enthusiastic about moving out of their joint cocoon of bed sheets and go face the others, but she got him to come along anyway.

She had only just turned the corner down into the lobby when she stumbled upon someone she had not expected to see there yet. “Cordy! What are you doing here, and… awake?” she rambled in shock. “What, Angel didn’t tell you?” Cordelia turned back to Angel, coming up behind her, and gave him a sharp look. He gave them a somewhat apologetic smile, and explained. “We may have forgotten to mention it, in between everything that went down yesterday, but we met Cordy at the hospital, when picking up Wes. She had awoken, and the doctors estimated that she might be able to come home in a few more days, after they’d had time to monitor her recovery for a little bit.”

“But I couldn’t wait that long, so I’m happy you guys were able to come and pick me up now.” She gave him a warm but concerned smile, and turned to Buffy to explain further. “After Angel had explained to me all about Lindsay and the amulet and his current ghostly condition, I had another vision. Of Lindsay in his lair, putting together another spell, with pictures of Angel all around the ritual site. He’s up to something again, and we were just stopping by to get weapons, to go out and face him once and for all.”

Buffy lighted up. “So, you know where he is?” “Yes” Cordy confirmed. “You’re coming with us to kick his ass?” “You bet I am!” Buffy beamed, and hurried along with the others to pick weaponry. Spike hesitated only for a moment, before joining the others in getting armed and ready for battle. He was pleased to see that no one raised an eyebrow at that, and let him have whichever weapon without objections.

When they arrived on the location of Cordy’s vision, they could see the arranged ritual site laying partially ready, with a small cauldron over the yet unlit fireplace, with a ritual circle on the floor around it, and pictures of Angel spread along the circle’s parameters.  On a nearby table there was a spellbook laying open on a page titled “how to summon a spirit.”

“Looks like the ritual hasn’t started yet. We made it in time” Gunn stated matter-of-factly.

Willow made her way to the spellbook, and read the instructions briefly. “Hmm, this spell doesn’t include a cauldron, or a fire. He clearly has bigger plans with this séance than just to say hey.”

“Well, he has achieved the “hey” part at least” Angel grumbled firmly. “But as soon as he comes back from … shopping for ingredients or whatever he’s up to, he’s gonna be sorely disappointed about the rest.”

“I think he might be, in more ways than you think!” Willow piped excitedly. “This book has a really great spirit section. I just found a spell here for how to make a spiritual entity solid again.” She looked up at Angel in jittery excitement. “It won’t be a warm, living body, but you didn’t have that before either, so there shouldn’t really be any difference.”

**********************************************************************************

When Lindsay came home, happy with having been able to retrieve all the spell ingredients he’d need for his final vengeance over Angel, he was in for a shock of a lifetime. The spirit he was seeking was already in his summoning circle, but with armed sentries all around it, and a damn witch right in there with him, performing some sort of spell already. Before his eyes, the spirit grew denser and denser, until it congealed into something as solid as any of the others in attendance.

No!! The damn former vampire was supposed to be trapped within the circle, anxiously awaiting his next move, not come armed, with company, like this! He tried to turn and run, but he was being followed, and before he could get far, hands that were as cold as those of his deeply hated foe clasped around him in an iron grasp, and he was dragged back into the room by strong arms, clad in a black leather duster.

“Going already?” Spike jeered at him. “You’re gonna miss the party. It’s not good custom to invite, and then not stick around.”

“I didn’t invite you!” Lindsay sneered. “This is none of your business! Let go of me.”

“You’re right.” Angel said. “This is between me and you. I gave you a promise that the next time I saw you in my town, I’d kill you. I suppose that gives me first right to do so.” He gave Spike a mirthful look. “So normally I’d tell him to let you loose, so I can deal with this. But my grandchilde here has never been the best at honoring such rights. He’s kind of a rebel like that.”  

Spike laughed. “Sure you’re up to it, grandsire? Not feeling too ghostly?”

“Nah” said Angel, with a ferocious grin, rubbing his hands together, and taking his coat off. “I don’t think I even need weapons for this”

Spike then tossed Lindsay towards him, and stepped back into position to guard the door.

“You know” Angel said, directed at Lindsay. “It wouldn’t have had to come to this. I have no deep grudge against you for these most recent escapades. Though it probably wasn’t intended that way, giving us that amulet was the greatest deed you have ever done. It saved the world from the ultimate evil.” He paused, and gave him a thoughtful smirk. “In fact, if you’re gonna keep dishing out that kind of vengeance, I had better keep you alive, so that I have somewhere to turn in upcoming emergencies.”

At that, Lindsay let out a growl, and came at him with ferocious force, and the fight was on. Hit, kick block, parry. Up and down and sideways. In the end, they had made it up a set of stairs, into a landing a little away from the watching crowd.

“There” Lindsay jeered. “How nice of you to come up. Up here, your friends won’t be able to come to your rescue when your dust starts flying.” He then pulled a stake from the pocket of his jacket, and jammed it straight into Angel’s heart.

And nothing happened. When the stake was removed, there was a small gaping wound where the heart was,   but the rest of him was as intact as ever. Angel and Lindsay looked at the wound, in equal befuddlement, and then Angel grabbed him, and sent him full force over the railing, crashing head first into the floor below. There he twitched a few times, before he laid still, with a fractured skull.

Angel then came down the stairs himself, and the others flocked around him. First Buffy and Cordy, giving him a hug from each their side, and then the rest of the crowd, filling in on the big group hug till they were all in one lump. All but Spike, who still skulked around off by the door.

“I still don’t understand.” Angel muttered when they finally let him come up for, unneeded, air. “That stake hit it’s mark perfectly. Why am I still here?”

“It’s because of the way the spell worked” Willow explained. “I told you, it did not give you your old body back. You’re still a spiritual entity. The vampire in you is still gone, dusted in the Hellmouth. I just made you solid. To all practical purposes, your new body works as well as the old one, but with some improvements. You cannot be staked, and you can go out in the sunshine as much as you want to. If someone wants to kill you, it will have to be through spirit banishing, or something like that. “

She gave him a knowing smile, and continued. “And I figure your old curse is broken as well. The one that would separate your soul from the body. That separation is now done once and for all. Your demon is dust. You are free to get as happy as you’d like, completely without risk.”

“Wow”. Cordy turned to him, with tears gleaming in her eyes. “I’m so happy I woke up in time to help arrange this.” Angel smiled back, and took her into another long hug. “Your timing is always impeccable.”

**********************************************************************************

Spike couldn’t take it any more. He couldn’t stay there. He had to get out for air. Angel was back. Not just in the somewhat manageable haunting ghost way, but really back. In the flesh, and without either cursed or vampiric restrictions. Now, Buffy would surely prefer him again. There was no question about it. He opened the door he had been guarding, and rushed outside in a fervor.

But he hadn’t gotten far before he could hear steps behind him, and sense her scent with them. He turned back, and faced her.

“Shouldn’t you be inside celebrating? Tall Dark and Forehead has gotten his bulk back, and won’t even loose it the next time you please him this time.”  

“No, you doofus”, Buffy chided lovingly. “Have you forgotten already, what we talked about just a few hours ago? That wasn't about him. It was about us. About you. I am happy he got his body back, and that he’s free of his demon forever, but it doesn’t change anything. I’ve made my choice.”

She got right up in his face, and pulled him in for a long warm kiss, and right then, Spike thanked the Powers That Be that he had never been cursed. It was a moment of perfect happiness.

 

THE END


End file.
